


In Which Dave Strider Gets a Roommate (and a Little Bit More)

by vulturer



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Cheese, Fluff, M/M, Nerdiness, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-16
Updated: 2011-09-28
Packaged: 2017-10-21 11:23:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 38,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/224642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vulturer/pseuds/vulturer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Bro takes off for an overseas job, Dave Strider finds himself with a condo, bills, and nary a way to pay for it all. He does what any normal college guy would do; puts up an roommate wanted ad on craigslist. He gets a little bit more than he bargained for... in a very good way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: A Lonely Bachelor No Longer

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a fantastic prompt on the kink meme, [found here](http://homesmut.livejournal.com/7440.html?thread=11080720#t11080720).
> 
> Can I just say I love this fandom? Yes? Okay, sweet. Enjoy!

  
**  
PROLOGUE   
**   
_A Lonely Bachelor No Longer_   


  


____________________________________________________

  


The second you clicked the button to publish your housing ad, a heavy sigh escaped your lungs and you sunk back into your leather office chair. Fuck. You had gotten really used to having the whole flat to yourself these past couple of weeks, but maintaining such a lifestyle required a bit more cash than you had anticipated. You had watched your savings trickle away with a grimace, bit by agonizing bit, and now you could no longer shrug your shoulders and wistfully say, "eh, I'm good for a while."

It was all thanks to your wonderful, fucking infuriating brother. What he had done these past couple of years had been nothing short of awesome (raising you single-handedly, saying "yeah, sure, we can hop on over there" with no questions asked when you got accepted to your first choice university, splitting rent for a condo halfway and helping you out every now and then with food and gas...), but here was where it inevitably came to a screeching halt. He got an offer for a job overseas that you Just Don't Say No To, and it was "all right little dude, I'm outta here, don't get pregnant or break any of my shit," and two weeks later he was gone, back turned to your two middle fingers. Which you didn't really mean. You only _really_ meant _one_ of them.

Alas, after a short, but blissful lone-bachelor stint, you figured you had better get a damn roommate before school started or else you were royally screwed. A bowl of mac and cheese, two pale ales, and half an hour later, your unironically bland housing post was up for grabs. Ugh.

\-- ghostyTrickster [GT] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 20:46 --

GT: daaaaaave.   
TG: sup   
GT: fucking summer ochem hw.  
GT: mechanisms are swimming in front of my eyes.   
TG: that sucks   
GT: yes. yes it does.  
GT: and now that i have your esteemed second opinion, i am officially done for tonight.   
TG: cool   
GT: yep.  
GT: so...   
TG: just posted a roommate wanted ad   
GT: ...  
GT: wait......  
GT: WHAT???   
TG: yep   
GT: no fucking way.   
TG: you bet   
GT: holy shit.  
GT: HOLY SHIT.   
TG: yup   
GT: uh, wow.  
GT: well, good luck dude!   
TG: thanks   
GT: sorry i couldn't...  
GT: you know, be your roommate...   
TG: its cool   
GT: i mean, i totally would in like a fucking heartbeat if i didn't already have a roommate!!   
TG: its fine bro   
GT: it would be fucking awesome to live with you too, no joke!!  
GT: don't think for a second that i would pick karkat over you if i had known you needed a renter!   
TG: dude egbert pull your sweaty fingers away from the keyboard for a second and calm the fuck down  
TG: i know dumbass you've been rooming with that same ornery asshole since freshman year  
TG: im a lot of things but a homewrecker is not one of them  
TG: it was a complete last minute thing cause bro is just so considerate like that  
TG: and you had already signed your civil union papers i mean lease anyway   
GT: oh, fuck you.   
TG: ok  
TG: gather round young grasshopper  
TG: you need to hear this its important  
TG: that right there would be what we big kids like to call cheating on your loved one  
TG: its really just very selfish and inconsiderate  
TG: you really should be more thoughtful of your life partner  
TG: especially since you were destined to be together and have dumbass movie marathons where you would make homemade popcorn and share a blanket and maybe even get to  
TG: hold  
TG: each others  
TG: hands  
TG: if you could just summon the courage and be brave little toasters  
TG: choking on all those feelings and red vines   
GT: HA.  
GT: HAHAHAHA  
GT: OH MAN DAVE YOU ARE SO FUNNY   
TG: true  
GT: I AM JUSTING LAUGHING MY ASS OFF  
GT: NAY I AM ROLLING ON THE FLOOR LAUGHING OVER HERE  
GT: OH GOD ALL OF MY RIBS ARE BREAKING BECAUSE YOUR JOKE WAS SO FUNNY  
GT: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA  
TG: all right holy fuck  
TG: youre fucking batshit you know that  
GT: oh, whatever, pot.  
GT: but seriously, good luck with the search.  
GT: and let me know how it goes!!  
TG: sure thing kettle  
TG: now you be a good little boy and finish your homework  
GT: uuuuuugh, fuck that, im gonna go get some takeout.  
TG: cool  
GT: bye dave!  
TG: later

\-- ghostlyTrickster [GT] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 21:05 --

You rubbed the cheerfully colored after-images from your tired eyes and sighed again, absentmindedly listening to the rhythmic bass that rumbled our of your speakers. As much as you loved and begrudgingly cherished the overwhelming ball of optimistic energy that was your best friend, sometimes he just made you feel like you needed another beer. And what kind of temporary bachelor would you be if you didn't give in to temptation?


	2. Everything Goes Better Than Expected

** CHAPTER 1 **

_Everything Goes Better Than Expected_

  


____________________________________________________

  


Morning sunlight trickled through your thick curtains and you dragged yourself out of your dreams the next morning with a low grumble, rolling unceremoniously over to glare at your bedside clock. Little red LED numbers shined softly at you, glowing 8:45 am. A sigh deflated your chest; who the hell decided today was the day to sleep in? Definitely not you, but all right, whatever. Another few rolls and you tumbled gracefully out of your bed, rubbing sleep from your eyes, and automatically moved to check your inbox.

Well. That was fast, you thought as you slumped into your chair, staring at the email titled "Housing inquiry." Awfully formal, but okay. And it was timestamped at just an hour after you posted your ad. Somebody meant business.

Hello. I am emailing you regarding your craigslist housing ad that you put up yesterday. I'm a computer science sophomore looking for a place to live near campus. I would like to set up a meeting to discuss possible arrangements.  
Thank you for your time.  
-Sollux Captor

All right, make that _incredibly_ formal, but it's not like your ad was particularly colloquial either. Computer science major, huh. You could deal with that.

"Weird fuckin' name, though," you muttered and typed out a curt reply.

thanks for the message  
if you're free today come by around 11 i'll be here  
if not then we can figure something else out  
-dave

An angry growl tore its way through your stomach and you pushed out of your chair, shifting your playing-card patterned boxers back into a more comfortable alignment. Breakfast. Coffee. Then moving shit out of your old room. In that order.

Or, at least it would have been but for the charming little ping that chimed from your speakers. The fuck?

Re: Re: Housing Inquiry

11 is fine. See you then.  
-Sollux Captor

The monitor glowed brightly up at you with the nigh immediate reply and you just blinked dumbly a few times in response. Breakfast. Coffee. Moving shit out of your old room. Put on some clothes. Meet potential new roommate. In _that_ order.

Okay, so apparently this whole deal wasn't going to be as teeth-pulling as you thought. As the just exquisite sound of coffee grounds being decimated effectively jolted you out of your half-sleep, you let out an approving hum and casually hoped that the sophomore wouldn't be an unbearable creep. Fingers crossed.

_____________

A soft, but curt knock sounded at the door at precisely eleven o'clock. The guy passed your first, unofficial test by arriving not a minute early and not a minute late. _Off to a good start,_ you mused as you pushed off the couch, pausing your game (another unspoken obstacle in your rigorous, mental obstacle course). You would be remiss not to secretly quiz the seemingly stuffy stranger before signing a year-long commitment with them. What better way to do it than through a series of inane and trivial I Spy games? That's right, there wasn't one.

The first thing you noticed as you swung the door open was a bespectacled pair of heterochromatic irises. Welp. That was jarringly unexpected; though, as you rapidly evaluated the just-about-two-inches-shorter figure in front of you, not unwelcome. _Definitely not unwelcome, yikes,_ you thought, as the mismatched eyes were set in a thin, pale-skinned body that wasn't too hard on _your_ eyes at all. Though a designated box didn't exist preceding this instantaneous exchange, you could heartily check "Whoops, Possible New Roommate is Somewhat Attractive" off of the list.

"Hi," the skinny guy said softly, looking directly at your chin. So maybe Eye Contact Through the Shades was a bit iffy at this point, but you were willing to overlook it and give the guy a second chance.

"Sollux Captor?"

"Yeah, that'th me," and okay, the guy was just full of little surprises. You might have been tempted to liken him to a box of chocolates, if the analogy weren't so fucking lame. You would leave that description up to your best dork John Egbert, because you were damn sure he wouldn't let such a comparison go unmade. In hindsight, it was probably a good thing you were distracted with silly movie references that your friend continually assaulted you with (sometimes, it was the only thing the kid talked about, for fuck's sake), because Skinny looked momentarily mortified the second the reply escaped his mouth. He recovered a look of forced indifference back pretty quickly, and you filed "Insecure About His Speech Impediment" into your mental cabinet. Lalonde would be so proud.

"Dave Strider," you replied without a hint of judgement in your tone and held out a hand. "Welcome to paradise."

"Ni- uh... Good to meet you," Skinny offered with a slightly quirked eyebrow and an adequate handshake.

"Likewise," you said with a nod and stepped back, gesturing to your apartment like it was the college student's Taj Mahal. Which, it pretty much was. Striders don't skimp out on personal pleasures, which translated to electronic gear everywhere you looked and swords. Lots and lots of swords. Probably too many swords... but that didn't really make any sense. There wasn't a such thing as too many swords. "Come on in."

Captor stepped through the doorway somewhat hesitantly, rubbing his arm a little and blinking to adjust to the stark change in lighting. As soon as you closed the door, he turned back to face you, though his eyes seemed to want to explore. He fidgeted, probably fighting to stay still, and took a breath. _Business first, huh?_

"Tho... what'th your major?" he asked awkwardly, trying to appear uncaring about his linguistic stumbles. You didn't react to the lisp at all because, first of all, why? And second of all, who gives a shit?

"BFA in sound design with a minor in business," you rattled off easily and stepped away from the doorway, hands in your pockets. "You said you were computer science, right? Any minors?"

"Electrical engineering."

You raised your eyebrows ever-so-slightly. "So, how's not having a social life?"

He stared at your shirt for a few seconds before flatly replying, "Fine." You had expected at least a resemblance of a smile, but... guess it took a bit more work than that. Challenge accepted.

"Well, you read the ad, so you know the deal. Feel free to snoop around, mi casa es su casa. Or, will be, if I get your John Hancock."

"Ith there a landlord that I should talk to firtht?"

"Nah, my brother owns the place. We moved here my freshman year, but he's off doin' some international bullshit so it's mine for a while. Couldn't afford it on my own though, and family rule is that you get cut off at 18. 'Gotta man up on your own,' or whatever that anti-mother-hen said."

Finally Skinny's awkward poker face twitched into a small smile. He had been nervously glancing about the place, looking at anything but you. It would have been cute on anyone but a college-aged male, but on him it was a bit pathetic and you were honestly pretty glad he wasn't going to act like a skittish animal dropped into a new cage. That would have put him right on the one-way street to Nopeville, but he rebounded quickly and flicked his spectacled eyes up to your shaded ones.

"Thoundth like a good guy," he said slowly, testing the waters. You let out a short laugh, just a breath. _Keep going buddy, the pool's cold. The only way to get used to it is to throw yourself in._

"Feathery asshole."

That got you a laugh and, just like that, the ice was broken. With a smile on his face, he started to walk around the apartment of his own volition, peeking into the kitchen, bathroom, and the empty bedroom down the hall. You sat down on an arm of the couch watched him as he took in his surroundings curiously, his eyes lingering ever-so-briefly on the slightly cracked doorway to the master bedroom, which you had commandeered. Though his curiosity was surely piqued, he turned back around and nodded, glancing around a second time. Blue and amber danced over the old furniture, obscure band posters, sound equipment, several lava lamps, and finally the paused tv screen which caused a noticeable halt in his search. He was faced mostly away from you, expression unreadable.

"Uh, dude..."

"Problem?" _Take a bite, dog. Show me some teeth._

"Uh, no offenthe..." he started, rubbing at his arm a little. "But that game thuckth."

Beautifully done. You checked another box. "Yes. Yes it does."

Skinny whipped around and, this time, looked you dead in the eyes. Or, at least as close as he could get through your dark shades, which was pretty much right on. You passively stared back at his furrowed eyebrows, his mouth slightly open in confusion. All it took was a few seconds of silence and the bewildered look melted into a grin and he burst into laughter, clumsy and real, and _ping._ Box checked.

"Right," he replied cordially and moved to lean against the hallway entrance. "Nithe plathe."

"For the price, yeah."

"What do you do if thomething breakth?"

"Dude, I lived in a top floor, 600 per month apartment with a landlord who was drunk ninety percent of the time, and asleep the other ten. We handled pretty much everything. Bro could wire a fridge with his eyes closed; he probably fantasized about fixin' swamp coolers to help fall asleep. I picked up a few tricks along the way."

"Mutht have been hard living thuch a frugal lifethtyle."

"It wasn't so bad. And believe it or not, every once in a while we would indulge ourselves and go out on a romantic man-date to Olive Garden. It was serious business, we showered and everything."

Coaxing out those little halting chuckles was getting easier and easier. The smile managed to stay too. "No doubt. And I'm sure all the ladieth apprethiated your freshly washed thelveth."

"What, you don't care about Mother Earth?"

"Uh... my friend forthed me to donate to the oil thpill relief fund. And I don't have a car? I bike everywhere."

"Fuck, you're hired."

"Hired implieth you would pay me." And he was hiding some sass too, hmm? This deal was getting better and better.

"That is only because you don't know how lucky you are to live with me yet. I'll let it slide this once, cause you're new, but trust me when I say that you're forkin' over chump change compared to what others _would_ pay to live with such a legend."

"Haha, clearly."

"So, when do you wanna move in?"

"Uh... thorry, what?" he replied, eyes wide. He started rubbing his arm again. Nervous tick. Cute.

"Well, can't get all your shit over here on just your bike, right? Unless everything you own can fit into your backpack. Or you're the Hulk."

"Yeah, I hadn't quite figured that part out yet..." his gaze fell to the floor for a moment, but then returned with an odd, kind of embarrassed look. "I kind of didn't exthpect you to thay yeth tho quickly. Or at all."

"Makes sense," you answer with a shrug. "In any case, I've got a truck. It's a piece of shit, but... it's a truck."

"Theriouthly?" As uncool as it sounded, you were pretty sure you weren't going to get tired of seeing the smile pull on his face like that. He nodded again, laughing softly. "Thankth, man. That would be... yeah, that would be great. I can move in whenever."

"Right now?"

"Uh... whoa. Yeah. Sure, if that'th okay with you."

"More than. Just give me directions on the way."

"Okay," he said, half to you and half to himself. When you went to grab your keys out of the kitchen, he was saying little assurances over and over, quietly, like they got better and better each time he said them until you were both walking out the front door and you heard a quiet, but bright, "Fuck yeah."

And, to be completely honest, you felt the same way.


	3. Talking to Strangers

  
**  
CHAPTER 2   
**

_Talking to Strangers_

____________________________________________________

 

"Sorry in advance for the A/C," you warned as you revved up the old Ram, a drum and bass mixtape playing softly through the speakers. "Or lack thereof."

"Right, becauthe after you offer to help me move all of my stuff, I'm definitely gonna complain," the thin brunette countered and turn the crank to roll down the window. The tiniest breeze fluttered through the opening, but it did little to cut through the summer air, thick with yesterday's rain. You eyed Skinny out of your periphery as he rested his arm on the door and gazed out at the complex. His posture was a far cry from where it was when you first opened the apartment door; comfortable and loose, kind of slouched actually, instead of rigid like before. His other hand clutched the seatbelt to keep it from cutting into his neck, and you felt the corner of your mouth twitch slightly as you pulled out of the lot. "Okay, tho... take a right."

"Yes sir," you replied lightly and pulled out into the quiet street, shifting gears like it was a muscle, just an extension of your body. A little thought in the back of your mind piped up with realization that you hadn't left the comfort of your condo in a few days. The sticky heat actually felt pretty nice. Not a bad way to get out of the house. "Oh hey, I forgot to say, thanks for replyin' to my ad so fast. It took a weight off my chest."

"I wath getting dethperate... but yeah sure, and thankth for... uh, I dunno, being pretty awethome overall."

"My pleasure. And, desperate, huh?"

"Ugh, god yeth... Left up here," he said with a groan, listlessly pointing at the intersection. "Let'th jutht thay that the latht couple of houthing availabilitieth weren't exthactly... dethirable."

"Do tell," you replied with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, you're the firtht person to not immediately go, 'whoa dude, what'th wrong with your eyeth,'" he explained, putting his hands out in front of him and mimicking a slow, dazed sounding voice. "And you didn't jutht... thtare at me like I was an alien when I opened my mouth to say one fucking thententhe. For thtarterth."

"Heterochromia, right? The eye thing?"

A short silence lingered after your questions and you felt Skinny turn to stare at the side of your face. While your attention remained on the road, you could count the seconds his stare was fixed on you. One-one thousand, two-one thousand, three-one thousand...

"Yeah. Exthactly."

"Runs in the family?"

"Uh... yeah, it doeth," and he turned away slowly, gaze burning a hole in the glovebox. You risked a glance out of the corner of your eye and caught a glimpse of a creased dimple. Damn.

"Well, don't stop now, I'm dyin' over here."

You got a snort in return and Skinny shook his head. "Oh god... I haven't even thtarted. Take a left."

If this was the side of town the kid was living in, no wonder he was antsy to move out... It wasn't really the most pleasant sight to see outside your window everyday, not to mention the very high possibility of all of your material possessions disappearing overnight. And to a computer geek? Yeah, not the best kind of setup. You didn't say anything about it though and listened to the brunette talk, which was greatly more amusing.

"Well, firtht house was a bunch of thweaty wannabe frat guyth that looked like the only extherthithe they knew how to do wath bithep curlth. Oh, tho I could live with a bunch of chicken-legged moronth who would shove protein shaketh down my throat and try to get me to tan? Yeah, no thankth," he narrated, expression flickering back and forth between amusement from venting about his troubles, and annoyance at the fact that it all happened that way in the first place. "Thecond plathe wath a two bedroom apartment and a heroin addict. With bongth and pipeth everywhere. Then a guy that I would not be thuprithed to find out wath a thex offender."

"No shit?"

"No shit. Kept athking me how old I wath," Skinny grumbled with a visible shudder. He ran a hand through his messy hair and stared out the window again. "God, you don't know how fucking glad I am to have found thomebody not inthane. Turn into thith neighborhood on the right."

"You've known me for just over an hour. Probably not long enough to judge my sanity."

"True... well, are you a thex offender?"

"I plead the fifth."

"Groth, dude," he said with a grin and pointed at an apartment building that had most definitely seen better days. "It'th the one on the corner in that building."

You pulled into a spot that was closest to where he pointed and killed the engine, looking around at the half-empty lot and dying plants. "Is this a month by month kind of deal?"

"Yeah. I didn't really have a choithe," he said with a sigh and you both stepped out into the placid air. "Didn't really want to thtay very long, ath you can thee. And the rent ith highway robbery."

"I don't doubt it," you replied and followed Skinny as he fumbled to find his door key. "Didn't have a friend you could crash with?"

"I have one that tried, but he'th fucking annoying thometimeth and I didn't want to intrude. Ethpethially since he'th living with another guy that I don't really know."

As he opened the door to the ramshackle building, you felt your stoic expression wince a little bit against your will as the dark, unpleasant interior of the flat swallowed you both. A sparse amount of packed boxes were stacked against the wall close to the door and a card table sagged underneath a massive computer monitor and some empty cups. The air was hot and stuffy, with not a fan in sight. A dark room was visible through the kitchen, and at first you absentmindedly noted that it didn't have a door, then realized it was the bedroom. This may have been the most depressing living space you had ever seen, and you weren't exactly a mansion-dweller yourself.

"Livin' like a king, I see."

"Leth talk, more getting the fuck out of here," he said curtly and started unplugging equipment as fast as he could go. You did not protest one bit.

"Hell yes. Empty boxes?"

"In the mitherable exthcuthe for a bedroom."

Miserable excuse didn't even begin to cover it. The bed looked like it was fifty years old and it had a loose layer of plastic laid on top of the mattress with a messy bundle of blankets huddled in a pile in the middle. You were guessing the plastic wasn't a permanent piece of the disgusting ensemble. _Good call, Skinny,_ you thought with a grimace and grabbed the small pile of folded boxes out of the corner. There weren't very many, but... well, the kid didn't _need_ many. Compared to your ridiculous clutter and overabundance of complete bullshit that you and Bro collected over the years, it was... a little eye-opening, to say the least.

You walked back through the kitchen, noting that there was barely anything in the ways of food or cooking appliances aside from a box of Honey Nut Cheerios and some bread. Hopefully there was more hidden in the fridge. Jesus, how was this dumbfuck even alive?

You handed a box to him and got a relieved "thankth" in reply and kneeled down to help him pack cords and books into the boxes. Despite hunching into himself a little bit, a more passionate mover could not be found. He didn't bother to separate or wrap cords neatly at all; he just gathered them all in a pile and dropped them unceremoniously into a box which then got folded and kicked to the side. The computer tower and monitor were handled with a little more care, but just as fast. It took about ten minutes to get everything packed away, seeing as how only a few things had been taken out in the first place.

"How long have you been here?" you asked as he moved to start packing up the meager collection of food. You leaned against the wall calmly and let him do his thing.

"A month and a half," he replied grimly and tossed some instant oatmeal packets into the box on the floor. "Which ith a month and a half too long."

"With cereal and bread," and with this you shifted to help him as many things into one box as you could. Peanut butter, crackers. _Christ, kid._

"And Dominoeth."

"You have survival skills to rival Bear Grylls, man." He snorted and opened the fridge to reveal some hot dogs and two jars, which he quickly grabbed and handed to you. The hot dogs and jelly went right into the box, but you took a moment to examine the glass jar with the pricey label. "Got a thing for good honey?"

"Huh?" he voiced intelligently and closed all of the empty cabinets, turning toward you. "Oh, yeah, that shit'th good. Way better than the generic crap. Back home my dadth had a bunch of beehiveth and we—"

 _Wait. Back it up._

Both of your heads snapped to face each other and, though you were almost immediately ready to overcome your surprise and shrug it off, Skinny very quickly acquired an incredibly uncanny resemblance to a strawberry. He slapped his hand over his mouth and proceeded to glare the sharpest daggers in all the lands directly into the cracked tile floor.

"Fucking hell," he grunted and that arm-rubbing tick transformed into a death grip. You stood up fluidly with the box of food and looked at him with a slightly raised brow.

"It's not a big deal, dude."

"I jutht... Fuck!" he barked and threw up his hands in exasperation. "Anything elthe you wanna know, because _apparently_ it'th Tholluxth Revealth All of Hith Deep Perthonal Thecretth Day! God, fucking..."

"How'd you lose your virginity?"

Two middle fingers were shoved in front of your face before the owner disappeared into the entry room, grabbed a box, _any box,_ and then promptly bolted out the front door, leaving you standing in the middle of the kitchen with an uninhibited and wicked grin spreading across your face. _Yep. I can definitely get used to this._


	4. It's a Small Fucking World, After All

  
**  
CHAPTER 3   
**   


_It's a Small Fucking World, After All_

  


____________________________________________________

  


The next ten or so minutes contained the following: Skinny bustling around cherry-faced doing everything in his power to avoid looking directly at you, heavy boxes moved first, kicked open doors, _ow son of a bitch cardboard cut fuck ow,_ a quick look up to the sky at the fluffy thunderclouds that were starting to build up, and a ridiculous amount of skirting around each other until only two large, unwieldy boxes remained. Skinny stared at them with an expression that could only be described as _just priceless._ Fists clenched, brows tight, lips pursed...

You leaned over, sliding into his line of sight with eyebrows raised suggestively, the slightest smirk pulling at your lips and he just stared. Seconds ticked by as he struggled with how to react, _what the fuck to say after something like that,_ and he started to crumble. Even to someone as collected as you, it was understandable. The poor kid had revealed an awful lot to what was essentially a complete stranger, on top of his lisp and his horrific living circumstances. No matter how steely his self-control was, it was no match for the veritable horror that this situation was.

Hands shot up to cover his mouth again but it was too late, the dam broke, and dorky, brilliant, senseless laughter burst from his chest. He tried to hide his face in vain, doubling over a little as the sounds escaped from his grasp, but it was useless. He was dying, he fucking _snorted_ for christ's sake, and it was hysterical. And fuck it all, you smiled, you couldn't help it, _you grinned like John at the fucking midnight premiere of Live Free or Die Hard,_ but it was okay because your roommate had his eyes squeezed shut and didn't look to be opening back up for at least another few seconds.

"Oh my goooood," he groaned loudly, shaking his head vigorously to clear his mind. "Jutht... kill me. Put me out of my mithery."

"No can do."

"Uuuugh..."

"How's that foot taste?"

"Fucking terrible," he snapped with a lopsided grin, and ran his fingers through his hair. His stare returned to the box and he kicked it gently. "Latht oneth."

"You ready?"

"You have no idea."

"All right, let's curl some biceps," you stated and as soon as the two boxes were ever-so-carefully shoved in the bed of the pickup and the back slammed shut, you walked back with Skinny to close up the king's lair. He ventured back inside to do a quick sweep for stuff, turned off all the lights, unplugged the fridge and microwave, and came back to rejoin you on the doorstep. You let him take a moment to reminisce about his short life here, him gazing distantly into the dim interior, his hand clutching the side of the door. A few languid seconds passed before you put a comforting hand on his shoulder and nodded solemnly.

"Do it, bro. Don't hold back."

He looked sideways at you for a second and gave you a small nod before slamming the door so violently that it rattled the grimy windows a few feet away. He shoved the key into the lock like the key was his fist and the doorknob was a drunk who spit on his shoes, and then polished off the act with a slender middle finger extended gracefully in front of the little brass apartment numbers.

"Fuck you. Fuck you very much."

"Go pay your rent and turn in your key. I've lost some IQ points just by breathing the air in there, and I'm quite fond of my razor sharp wit, thanks."

"No need to tell me twithe," he asserted and disappeared to go pay the office. You turned back to stare at the seedy suite, lip curling slightly. If anything, the guy deserved a pat on the back for putting up with such abysmal circumstances. You and Bro had your fair share of bad hands with apartments and landlords, but this... this was something altogether. Captor didn't have any _furniture,_ for fuck's sake. In hindsight, it was probably a really good thing that Captor needed an internet connection and didn't have a car.

"Sheesh," you breathed and walked back to your truck, watching the clouds vaguely to gauge whether they were going to burst on the drive back or not. You leaned against the door with a sigh and rested your head against the frame, sweat trickling down the back of your neck. What a weird day. In less than two hours, you went from stoic lone student, passing his time with personal projects and listening to your best friend jabber on about "sweet biology stuff," to magnanimous condo-owner taking in a practically homeless, scrawny computer geek. Yeah. Weird fucking day.

A slight breeze kicked up and you closed your eyes against the sunlight. All of your muscles loosened up and your mind was clear. You calmly realized that you were completely relaxed, for what must have been the first time in _days._ It was a subconscious thing because you hadn't really felt stressed before, but now that you had your living situation basically figured out... it was like you had wound yourself up without knowing and someone just now loosened the knot.

You just barely registered footsteps approaching you before you heard a firm, "Okay, let'th get the hell out of here."

"Everything squared off?" you returned and stood up smoothly, adjusting your shades.

"Bathtardth made me fork over for two full monthth, but I don't give a thingle shit," he muttered and dragged his arm across his forehead. "I jutht want to leave."

"You got it," you nodded and you both hopped into the pickup, sinking into the seats, sweating like nobody's business, and it couldn't have felt better.

Thankfully the streets were fairly quiet, just a few cars here and there, so you could drive carefully without pissing the world off. It was a bit overly cautious, perhaps, but then again the only packing material between Skinny's computer and the truck bed was a few blankets and cardboard. Better safe than sorry. And it gave you some quality small talk time, which you would use to your full advantage. Never turn down a good brain-picking, as Lalonde always said.

"So, where were you before the dumpster-masquerading-as-a-ground-floor-apartment?" you inquired, ejecting the drum and bass cassette and replacing it with some post-rock.

"Dorm. Jutht a randomly athigned roommate thing," he answered with a somewhat touchy intonation. You glanced over briefly; he had his chin in his hand and was leaning against the window frame, the wind ruffling his dark brown hair that was clumped a little with perspiration.

"I hear a story there."

He sighed and wiped his palm on his jeans. "It wath fine at firtht. They paired people up bathed on their major, so I got matched with another computer science guy. We got along I gueth, never really talked, jutht did our own thing and just happened to share a room. Talked about gameth and thtuff. Then, in the latht couple of weekth of the year, he wrote a check out to himself, from me, for four hundred buckth."

"Whoa, faux pas."

"Yep. Don't know why he athumed I didn't watch my bank accountth like a vulture, but whatever. Got him to pay five hundred back for not taking hith fatath to court," he explained flatly and scowled. "I dethided no more random roomth from then on. Which, landed me in shit thentral, becauthe we had thigned up for another year in the thame dorm and that obviouthly wathn't gonna happen."

"Any reason why you didn't room with your friend your first year?"

"I dethided to go here at the latht minute, so he was already roomed with someone random. Which wath the motht annoying, yet kind of hilariouth thing ever, cauthe he'th fucking impothible. He bitched at me for weekth, and then threw the whole theft deal in my fathe," he said with a little laugh. "Dipshit."

"Sounds like a charmer."

"Who, Karkat?" he said incredulously and chuckled. "Oh yeah, KK getth all the ladieth, he'th totally drowning in roma— whoa, what the fuck are you doing?"

It had taken a moment for his words to sink into your heat-addled, tranquil brain, but the second they did you yanked the wheel and whipped into an empty side street, coming to an abrupt stop, careful driving habits thrown out the window. Captor spun around to stare at you like you like you had just burst out into an impromptu jazz routine, and you slowly turned to stare right back.

"Say your friend's name again."

"W-what, KK?"

"No, full name."

"Uh, Karkat?"

"Karkat Vantas."

"Uh, yeah, that'th..." he started and his eyes were suddenly dinner plates. "Wait, you know KK? How?"

"Holy shit."

"What... what the fuck?" he said with a little clipped, stunned laugh and stared holes through your skull. _What. The. FUCK._

"John Egbert is my best friend."

A few thick seconds of silence followed before a slow, "No way..."

"Our best friends are fuckin' roommates."

"Wait, jutht hold on a fucking... What did you thay your latht name wath?"

"Strider."

"Oh. Oh, holy _shit..._ Dave Thtrider. You're fucking _Dave Thtrider._ The 'irony' guy," he spluttered and pointed at you, his mischievous grin growing wider each second. "Oh my god. Oh my god, KK ith going to fucking flip hith _shit_ when he findth out I'm rooming with you. Oh, thith ith perfect."

"I have one question, and one question only," you stated gravely, holding up a hand to pause the world for a second. "How the fuck, I repeat, _how_ the _fuck_ do you manage to put up with that... precious bundle of joy?"

"That ith thuch a good question," he breathed back, shaking his head with a laugh, and sunk into the passenger seat, pushing damp hair out of his eyes. "How do you put up with a Nic Cage worshipper?"

"Touché," was your reply and you stared back out the windshield into the world that suddenly looked very different than it had before. Same trees, same road, same everything... except not. "This is real life. This is happening right now and it is amazing and I think I suddenly believe in fate."

"Definitely karma, at the very leatht."

"You roomin' with me is gonna piss Vantas off? Like, he's not gonna be happy when he finds out?"

"Are you _kidding_ me?" Skinny gushed, eyebrows nearly in his hair at this point. "He'th gonna rip my fathe off, he'll probably _path out_ from all the anger, I am _never gonna hear the end of it."_

"You are everything I could have ever wanted in a roommate," you said earnestly, and turned back to look at Captor with eyes full of _Yes_ and a heart full of _Hell. Yes._

After a few more shocked and awed seconds, you turned back to the wheel calmly and resumed the drive home. You were both silent the entire way, but the connection that was formed that moment was powerful, beautiful, and most definitely evil. Captor tried and failed to hide his grin with a hand and you leaned back into the driver's seat like it was a royal throne. It was unsaid but blatantly obvious that this was a truly historic moment. _Hell. Fucking. Yes._

______________

\-- twinArmageddons [TA] began pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG] at 14:55 --

TA: hey kk, gue22 what.   
CG: OH LOOK, IT'S THE FUCKING UNGRATEFUL, HOMELESS DOUCHEFUCK THAT I, FOR SOME REASON THAT IS BEYOND MY SCOPE OF UNDERSTANDING, STILL CALL A FRIEND.  
CG: OH HEY, HE WANTS TO PLAY A BALLSUCKING GUESSING GAME THAT WILL LEAVE ME GRASPING AT HIDDEN STRAWS WHILE HE GIGGLES BEHIND HIS DAINTY FINGERS AT ALL OF MY WILD ATTEMPTS AT FIGURING OUT WHAT THE FUCK HE'S TALKING ABOUT.  
CG: WELL TOO FUCKING BAD, FUCKTARD, I'M NOT IN THE MOOD, SO YOU'LL HAVE TO JUST TAKE A DEEP BREATH AND DEAL WITH WHAT I'M ABOUT TO SAY.  
CG: I'M NOT FUCKING GUESSING ANYTHING.  
CG: WHAT DO YOU WANT.   
TA: wow, for 2ome rea2on, ii momentariily forgot how much engorged diick you 2uck.  
TA: don't worry, iit won't happen agaiin.   
CG: GO CHOKE ON A THOUSAND HAIRY TESTICLES, YOU MISERABLE EXCUSE FOR A BEST FRIEND.  
CG: WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU WANT.   
TA: ii found a place two liive.   
CG: OH REALLY? WHAT, YOU TAPED TOGETHER A COUPLE OF CARDBOARD BOXES AND STOLE SOMEONE'S DOORMAT?  
CG: THAT'S SO CUTE, THOLLUXTH, I'M SO FUCKING PROUD OF YOU.   
TA: no, buttfucker, iit'2 a pretty niice condo. ii get my own bedroom and bathroom two.   
CG: SO WHAT, YOU FOUND SOME OBESE FIFTY-YEAR-OLD SUGAR DADDY THAT YOU WEAR SHORT SKIRTS IN FRONT OF IN EXCHANGE FOR YOUR VERY OWN SINK?  
CG: BECAUSE I HONESTLY CAN'T THINK OF ANYONE ELSE THAT COULD PUT UP WITH YOUR INSUFFERABLE DUMBFUCKERY.   
TA: even better.  
TA: ii'm moviing iin wiith dave 2triider.

\-- twinArmageddons [TA] ceased pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG] at 15:11 --

CG: WAIT  
CG: YOU  
CG: WHAT


	5. That's What Best Friends Are For

  
**  
CHAPTER 4   
**

_That's What Best Friends Are For_

____________________________________________________

 

"Okay, stop unpacking shit for a minute, and let's sit down and figure this out."

So far, everything had been going smoothly, like a well oiled mass of gears, and things seemed to just fall into place. All of the boxes had made it up to the third floor apartment literally minutes before the sky decided to drown the city, so that was a bullet thankfully dodged. You had cooked up the last few hot dogs that the brunette had while he dumped all of his toiletries in the hallway bathroom. He set up his computer and logged into your internet with the name and numeric code you gave him on a post-it note ("'Big Booty Bitcheth?' Really?" "Shh, no questions, just embrace it") and he updated all of his addresses. You both stared at the boxes piled in the room, glanced at each other, and walked right the fuck back out to go kick some fourteen-year-old ass in CoD4, which killed a good chunk of time. Before you knew it, the sky was pitch black and you both swore to each other to ignore John and Karkat the next morning and deal with them after everything was settled, and disappeared into your respective rooms to pass the hell out. Shit would get taken care of tomorrow.

And again, everything somehow seemed to fit, as if your condo was a puzzle and Skinny's belongings were the pieces. Or, at least pieces that were small enough to fit. The fact that Captor didn't have a single scrap of furniture definitely helped. You and Bro already had the whole shebang; couches, entertainment center, round dining table, beds, and so on. Anything else would have been put right in the classifieds, so that was lucky. All of Skinny's computer equipment fit quite snugly on your old desk, and his clothes didn't take up much space in the closet. As a pleasant bonus, his massive stack of video games filled up the shelves in the entertainment center quite nicely.

But, alas, after the fun part was over, there was business to take care off. Captor followed you to the dinner table, where you sat down with a notebook and an I <3 My Grandchildren mug filled to the brim with french roast.

"So, here's the deal," you started, and tapped the notebook with a red sharpie. "I said on the ad that I wanted $475 a month. I'm gonna be brutally honest here, cause you're all right; that's high."

"Theemth reathonable to me," he replied with a shrug and rested his chin in a palm.

"Yeah, well, that's cause you don't know shit," which got you a multi-colored eyeroll in return. You held up a hand and looked at him pointedly. "Seriously, I feel bad about it. I've got a guilty conscience now. Look, I'm tearing up a little."

"I'm thooo thorry, and your point ith?"

"I'm knockin' the price down. What I listed is more than half of my monthly payment, which would be fine if you were a smelly asshole, but you're not. Hence the guilty conscience."

"I'll take that ath a compliment."

"Good, cause it is. And besides, I've got the master bedroom with an attached full bathroom, so it just... I dunno, feels wrong to charge the same amount or something," you explained and leaned back against the wooden chair, tapping your lips with the pen. "Not to mention all the shit in this place is basically mine to begin with. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the addition of dozens of shitty Xbox games and a jar of overly-expensive honey-"

"All right, all right," Skinny interrupted with a laugh and he held up his hands in defeat. "I get it. Tho..."

"So, four hundred a month, that's my final offer."

"You're kidding."

"Better take it now, four-eyes, or it'll go up. Four-ten... Four-fiftee-"

"Four hundred ith fine," he replied with a smirk. "Utilitieth?"

"Included. On one condition," you said cryptically and started writing something in the notebook, tilted just so Skinny couldn't see. He watched you write silently with a cocked eyebrow until you finished the note off with a flourish and slid it over to him. He took a minute to read it over before he sniggered, his eyes positively gleaming.

"Pen, pleathe."

The sharpie passed hands and you watched him sign his name at the bottom. After a few marks he ripped the piece of paper out and held it up for your to scrutinize. "That good?"

"Perfect," you nodded, snatched the paper from him, and walked to stick it under a magnet on the fridge. You took a second to admire the contract with a pleased rise in your chest before turning back to your partner in crime. "Excellent. Grab the empty boxes, I'll show you where recycling is downstairs. And then we can deal with the two dumbest, craziest, most lovable fuckers on this entire planet."

"Thoundth like a plan."

 

_____________

OFFICIAL LEASE:

_____________

 

Fifteen minutes later, you were back refilling your mug before a bright "Holy shit, Thtrider check it out!" sounded from the hallway.

 _Sounds like he struck gold._ You sipped the top of the liquid off and turned around to walk in your old room, still kind of weirded out that it wasn't really yours anymore. Captor had moved stuff around a bit and tacked a few things on the wall and it surprised you every time. Not that you minded at all, it was just... different. You set your refillled cup of coffee gently down on your old desk before peering over Captor's shoulder to see what he was gesturing at. You felt his gaze on you, likely searching for any reaction. _Eager beaver, are we._

Though, you could kind of see why he was. His screen was essentially a wall of grey, caps-locked text. It was absolutely too much to take in all at once, but you could pick out a few choice insults here and there as well as a record number of f-bombs and you mused absentmindedly, _that kid could give South Park a run for their money._ A smirk tugged gently at your mouth and you nodded approvingly. "I'd say mission accomplished."

"Oh god, I don't think I want to thee him in perthon any time thoon... I kind of like my ear drumth the way they are."

"Good call," you said and mentally flinched at the image of Karkat veritably exploding in Sollux's face. As much as Captor would try to postpone it, it was unavoidable at this point. "Welp, you'll excuse me while I go deal with my idiot."

"Sure thing," he replied with a nod and turned back to his monitor. "Ugh, where do I thtart..."

"Yeah, you're on your own there," you said jovially and retreated into your dim cave. The cold blue neon of your computer tower creeped across your skin and you slumped into your chair, sipping the black liquid that had become part of your basic human needs. The monitor on your desk stared back at you and you hesitated to turn it on. Dealing with the inevitable bombardment was not something you were looking forward to. But, whatever. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

\-- ghostyTrickster [GT] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 9:29 --

GT: dave.  
GT: dave, oh my god.  
GT: what did you dooooo.  
GT: karkat is freaking the fuck out over here, he is absolutely flying off the handle.  
GT: i have never seen him so mad before. it's kind of funny, actually!  
GT: but seriously.  
GT: he's going to single-handedly get us a red tag.  
GT: oh, but congrats on getting a roommate!  
GT: i mean, holy crap, that was fast!  
GT: you only put up the ad yesterday! that's pretty lucky that you found someone already.  
GT: i've met sollux a few times, he's kind of quiet, but pretty nice.  
GT: i guess.  
GT: ok, jesus christ, get online.  
GT: i'm dying over here.   
TG: hey egbert  
TG: you still here   
GT: DAVE OH MY GOD  
GT: you fucking asshole.  
GT: what have you done to me.   
TG: okay calm down  
TG: i need you to do one thing for me   
GT: what?   
TG: i need you to describe vantas's face  
TG: don't skimp on the gory details  
TG: how many blood vessels has he burst   
GT: dude.  
GT: all of the blood vessels.  
GT: all of them.  
GT: i have never heard so many cuss words come out of one mouth.  
GT: and i've been friends with him for a while!   
TG: excellent   
GT: no.  
GT: not excellent.  
GT: i mean, kind of excellent...  
GT: except not at all! i think he's broken...  
GT: i really hope this blows over soon.   
TG: no worries he'll get his panties out of a bunch  
TG: just give him a few days   
GT: if i survive them.   
TG: good luck bro   
GT: ugh, thanks.  
GT: oh, so!  
GT: how crazy is it that you room with somebody that knows me?   
TG: pretty crazy not gonna lie   
GT: when karkat first screamed about it to my face i couldn't believe it!  
GT: small world!   
TG: no kidding   
GT: he's a computer science major, right?   
TG: yep   
GT: so, like...  
GT: does he do any hacking?   
TG: dunno  
TG: lemme check  
TG: ....

"Hey, Captor!"

"What?"

"Can you hack shit?"

"Obviouthly!"

TG: yep   
GT: oh wow!  
GT: that is so cool.   
TG: i guess   
GT: oh man, well have fun!  
GT: we should all hang out when karkat collects all of the shit he just lost.   
TG: sure   
GT: okay, i'm gonna brave the storm. wish me luck.  
GT: see ya!   
TG: have fun

\-- ghostyTrickster [GT] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 10:15 --

_____________

\-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] began pestering twinArmageddons [TA] at 9:06 --

[SELECTED PAGES OMITTED FOR THE SAKE OF EVERYONE'S SANITY]

CG: AND NEXT TIME I SEE YOU I AM GOING TO DIG MY NAILS INTO YOUR FUCK UGLY FACE, RIP IT OFF OF YOUR THICK USELESS SKULL, AND SHOVE IT DOWN YOUR FUCKING THROAT SO THAT YOU CAN SHARE THE MAGICAL EXPERIENCE OF KNOWING THE EXACT, PUTRID TASTE I GET IN MY MOUTH WHENEVER I LAY MY EYES ON SOLLUX CAPTOR, THE BIGGEST DOUCHEBAG TO EVER WALK THE EARTH.   
TA: kk, 2hut up.  
TA: 2eriiou2ly, you're embarra22iing your2elf and everyone around you.   
CG: OH MY GOD, PEOPLE STOP WHAT YOU ARE DOING AND DIRECT YOUR ATTENTION TO WHAT IS HAPPENING RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW.  
CG: THE SCUM OF THE EARTH HIMSELF HAS DEEMED US WORTHY OF HIS FUCKING PRESENCE AT LONG LAST.  
CG: IT'S A FUCKING MIRACLE.   
TA: holy 2hiit, kk, 2top talkiing.  
TA: ii would liike two have a mature, iintelliigent conver2atiion wiith you for fiive fucking miinute2.  
TA: but ii can't do that when you have your fii2t 2o far up your a22 that your heart doe2n't even have two beat, you're ju2t pumpiing your blood by hand.  
TA: 2o ju2t clench your fii2t2 really hard before you 2ay 2omethiing el2e monumentally retarded.  
TA: and when you're fiinii2hed, ii dare you two talk to me iin concii2e 2entence2 2horter than three line2 long.  
TA: ii double dog dare you.   
CG: ................   
TA: are we good?   
CG: .......................   
TA: kk?   
CG: YOU ARE LIVING WITH DAVE STRIDER.   
TA: ye2.   
CG: WHY THE EVER LOVING SHIT SWALLOWING FUCK ARE YOU   
TA: kk.   
CG: ................................  
CG: WHY ARE YOU LIVING WITH THE OTHER BIGGEST DOUCHEBAG TO EVER WALK THE EARTH?   
TA: becau2e he'2 a niice guy, he needed a roommate, and he gave me a really good deal on rent.   
CG: OK, I AM ONLY GOING TO ACKNOWLEDGE THE SECOND AND THIRD REASONS YOU JUST STATED BECAUSE, WHEN I THINK ABOUT THE FIRST ONE TOO HARD, MY BRAIN MATTER STARTS MELTING AND OOZING OUT OF MY EARS FROM TRYING TO UNDERSTAND SOMETHING THAT MAKES SO LITTLE SENSE.  
CG: IT MAKES NEGATIVE SENSE. BUT WHATEVER, I'LL JUST BLISSFULLY IGNORE IT.   
TA: fiine.   
CG: ALSO, I'M GOING TO ASSUME YOU WOULDN'T KNOW WHAT A GOOD DEAL WAS IF IT HEADBUTTED YOU IN THE GROIN, SINCE I CAN'T PICTURE SUCH A MALICIOUS BEING LIKE STRIDER EVER DRIVING A FAIR BARGAIN.  
CG: SO HOW MANY KIDNEYS DO YOU HAVE TO SELL BEFORE YOU JUST BARELY BREAK EVEN.   
TA: le22 than a dozen.  
TA: ju2t enough two cover $400 a month and food.   
CG: $400 A MONTH?   
TA: that i2 what ii 2aiid. whiich he knocked down $75 from hii2 lii2t priice.   
CG: FOR YOUR OWN ROOM AND BATHROOM?   
TA: and my very own 2eat at the diinner table.   
CG: OK, THAT'S  
CG: THAT'S ACTUALLY NOT MINDNUMBINGLY TERRIBLE.   
TA: told you.   
CG: DON'T THINK THIS EXCUSES ANYTHING THOUGH.  
CG: YOU ARE STILL ROOMMATES WITH THE ONE PERSON I HATE MOST IN THIS SCUMSUCKING UNIVERSE.  
CG: IN FACT, I THINK I MIGHT ACTUALLY HATE HIM MORE THAN YOU.  
CG: WHICH IS A WHOLE FUCKING LOT.   
TA: haha, alriight dude, whatever you 2ay.   
CG: JESUS.  
CG: MY HEAD IS SPLITTING LIKE A FUCKING FAULT LINE, ALL BECAUSE OF YOU.  
CG: THANKS SO FUCKING MUCH FOR THAT, I DEFINITELY APPRECIATE IT.   
TA: anythiing for a friiend, kk.   
CG: UGH.  
CG: OH GREAT, THE FOUR-EYED BUCKTOOTH IS COMING TO SAVE THE DAY. JUST WHAT I NEEDED.   
TA: say hii two hiim for me.   
CG: OKAY, I WON'T.   
TA: alriight, later kk.   
CG: FUCK YOU.

\-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] ceased pestering twinArmageddons [TA] at 10:16 --

_____________

After downing the last dregs of coffee, you stood up to go bring your empty mug to the kitchen and was greeted with a smug brunette filling a cup with water from the tap. He wordlessly held up a hand and, as you passed by to dump the dish in the sink, you sealed the deal with the most satisfying high-five in college history.

Mission accomplished.


	6. A Test and Then a Compromise

  
**  
CHAPTER 5   
**   


_A Test and Then a Compromise_

  


____________________________________________________

  


Before you knew it, you had slipped into a routine of peaceful familiarity, and it was more inexplicable than Bro's ridiculous old collection of neon-colored puppets (which he had supposedly downsized right before you moved, _thank GOD)._ After you had posted the craigslist ad, a quiet and somewhat bothersome mantra had been cycling in the back of your mind; it wasn't really a definitive sentence or stream of words, but a cloud of haphazard thoughts that words could only allude to. It was something along the lines of _my brother isn't here,_ or _I've never lived alone,_ or perhaps even _I don't want a stranger in this place._ It was stupid, you were fucking twenty years old and that bullshit was so petty that it didn't belong within a hundred miles of your icy self. And yet, _fucking hell,_ there it was, just kind of hovering at the base of your brain, like a daddy-long-legs standing still on the back of your neck. You swatted at it, which made the feeling go away for a little while, but the whispery touch eventually tickled right back.

Except, now you couldn't feel it anymore. You hadn't even noticed it fading away until you woke up one morning, went to go cook some eggs for breakfast, and the world was clear as glass. You had stared through your shades at the bubbling albumen, wondering why the air felt so still, until your daze was broken by the sounds of shuffling feet and a crackling yawn.

"Morning," came a listless greeting before the owner of the gravelly voice collapsed onto a wooden chair and slumped over on the dinner table, face buried in folded arms.

"How do you take your eggs?" you asked.

You interpreted the returned grumble to mean, "surprise me."

It had been a week since you had let the stranger put his things on your shelves and tack his posters on your walls, and you felt a calm wash over you that rivaled the quieter days you spent with Bro, eating pizza on the roof, fingers touching old vinyl on turntables. What was this? It didn't make sense. Why were you so at ease?

Maybe it was the check. Certainly, the moment four-hundred dollars cropped up into your back account, a heavy breath was set free from your chest and your tendons released their stranglehold on your bones. Money didn't buy everything, but it sure as shit made things easier.

Maybe. But, that was still just a part of the whole parcel, and it didn't account for the way in which you dealt with having a person who was not your brother touching things that were not his. Which is to say, you didn't deal with it. There was nothing to deal _with._ It was _fine._

As you set the plate of overeasies in front of the crumpled figure, you started to contemplate. Each bite of steaming, peppered egg brought another question whizzing through your brain like an arrow, and you stared at your reflection in your coffee. _Did I turn seventy-five years old without noticing? I just made fucking eggs for some guy who said "morning" to me in my kitchen. I am acting like a goddamn old man in a long, successful marriage. What the flying fuck just happened to my life._

No answer came from out of the ether, and the figure opposite from you didn't seem to be offering anything either. He looked half-way to death, dark sleepless bruises resting underneath his reddish sclera. The brunette had taken on several freelance coding jobs to help offset the losses he suffered from his brief affair with hell, and it was taking a bit of a toll.

Though, for some reason, he still woke up every morning less than half an hour after you did. Maybe it was the noises you made as you shuffled around, maybe it was the free breakfast. In any case, he didn't complain about your rather un-student-esque sleeping habits, didn't utter a single word when you walked out the master bedroom at eight in the morning to grind coffee beans and move dishes. He didn't really complain about _anything._ Tried to taunt you, sure, which was amusing. But not a single fuss was made, even when any regular person would have rounded on you in a second.

Take two days ago, for instance, when he had been digging in the pantry for junk food and then had backed out slowly, staring at a gleaming metal blade that he held in his hand by the hilt. He had blinked a few times, eyes fixed to the glinting object, before calling out in the direction of the living room where you were scribbling notes on some sheet music.

"There'th a dagger in your pantry."

"Huh, wonder how that got there."

And he didn't even object to the bassy sounds of editing music reverberating from your room. Granted, you used headphones for your work more than ever before as a mild courtesy, but sometimes you didn't bother, and he didn't seem to mind. Or, if he did, never said a peep about it.

This whole setup just _worked._ It was weird.

"You look like shit," you remarked mildly and huffed through your nose at the bird flipped in return. The owner was sluggishly forking egg into his mouth and staring vaguely in the direction of the table's surface; apparently, in the past couple of days, the snippy geek had been replaced with a bespectacled phantom that retained just a few of his retaliatory traits. Wait, actually, scratch the "bespectacled" part. That's what looked off. He wasn't wearing his glasses. "Are the specs just for show?"

"Huh?" the brunette replied and dragged his eyes up from the table, brows furrowed in confusion. He blinked stupidly at you a few times before patting a hand to his face. "Oh. No, my prethcripttion'th only a two. And I'm nearthighted, tho... don't need 'em around the houthe."

"Mmm," you answered and sipped some more coffee. Skinny stared at you, eggs forgotten, looking like he couldn't decide whether your face was the same, or if it had twisted into something extraterrestrial. You cocked an eyebrow and gazed back at him. "Problem, Specs?"

"What about _your_ thunglatheth?" he said after snapping out of his stupor. "You never take them off."

"That's cause I can't."

"...What?"

"See, these babies right here?" you started, resting your elbows on the table and tapping the side of your shades lightly. "They don't come off. They're a part of my skull, feedin' directly into my cerebral cortex. If I took 'em off, I would die."

"Oh, come on," Skinny groaned, visibly waking up bit by bit. He shoveled another bite of egg into his mouth. "Don't be shy. Take 'em off, there'th no one elthe here."

"Show me your porn folder."

"Ugh, _fine,_ nevermind," he said with a snicker and rolled his eyes, his skeleton unfolding out of it's crumpled form. He looked far more awake compared to minutes earlier and, after depositing his plate in the dishwasher, walked back to his room with a quick "thankth for the eggth, man" before disappearing into the hallway.

Huh. Maybe _that_ was it, you wondered and chewed slowly. He just... got the message. You each volleyed back and forth, firing off mocking lines as if they made more sense than candidness did and, when it was clear the match had approached a stalemate, you both backed off. That was that. Other people that you conversed with — classmates, friends, whatever the fuck Vantas was — didn't. They kept pushing, kept trying to find out if _they_ would be the one to finally crack Dave Strider. They weren't. Nobody was, obviously. You didn't even know why they tried.

Captor, though... maybe he got it. Or maybe he just didn't care to waste the effort in trying, but regardless, it was different. Welcome, actually. Fuck, it was bordering on _pleasant._

And with that, you shrugged and shoved the ruminating out of your mind because... well, if it looked like it worked, if it _felt_ like it worked, then hey. That was that.

Until, four days later, it wasn't.

______________

It was a summer day just like any other summer day. You had made damn good progress on some music and sound effect tracks for a couple of friends in media arts and they loved what they heard. They were entering a local five-minute film contest and, on top of the twenty bucks they fronted you with, promised you a cut of any winnings they received. You had seen the rough cut and it wasn't half bad, providing plenty of inspiration for composition. It was a welcome change from the usual bullshitting you had to do for assignments, and it made the celebratory summer ale afterwards taste that much better.

The air was sweltering hot, but that wasn't new. It was summer after all, and the regular monsoons that flooded the air with moisture were still in full swing. This was definitely one of those times that you cursed having a swamp cooler, but it was livable. At least, with nobody around to impress, you and your roommate could wear loose tank tops and not give a shit about it.

However, one small thing _had_ changed; Skinny still came out of his cave every morning to make toast and small talk, but he was becoming less and less visible around the place as time crept forward. Every time you passed by and glanced into his open door, you saw him poring over a programming language book, typing furiously, or triple checking his scripts. He was looking more drained by the hour, and just worked more voraciously. You didn't say anything though. It was turning out to be a pretty lucrative process, and besides, he was completely consumed. You had no desire to block his flow.

This proved to be a mistake.

You were halfway through that celebratory crisp beer, still pleased at the compliments that had tumbled forth from your classmates, when a metallic crash burst from the hallway. Five of your seconds were spent wondering _what the fuck,_ calling out "you all right?," and then processing the following silence before you leapt up from your seat, drink forgotten, heart hammering. The rushing sound of water whooshed through your ears and you charged into the hallway bathroom without a second thought, neurons chanting _fuck fuck fuck._

Sollux lay crumpled on the bathroom floor, top half inside the standing shower, bare except for a pair of boxers. The suction-cupped metal caddy and various bottles were scattered underneath the stream of freezing water, and the brunette wasn't moving.

"Sshhhit," you muttered and slammed your fist against the tap to cut the water off before leaning down to assess the damage. He was breathing normally. Hadn't inhaled any water. Just blacked out. _Okay, next._

You carefully but quickly slid your arms underneath his head and chest and dragged him out of the shower, leaning him up against the cabinets under the sink. Pulled eyelids revealed equal pupil diameters, _thank fuck,_ and you held his head upright by his chin, water trickling from his hair down onto your arm. The only visible damage was a small red splotch near his eyebrow, which was probably going to be a nice black eye in a few hours. His right arm was a bit banged up as well, and you hoped that meant it broke his fall.

"Hey, Specs, wake up," you said loudly, squeezing his arm. Still just breaths. No movement. "Wake the fuck up. Sollux, you need to listen. Look at me."

"Nnnn..." the brunette moaned and his eyelids fluttered, pupils seeking a point of focus. "...Dave?"

"Sol, listen to me, I need you to tell me where you are."

His gaze slipped away from yours to look at the wall behind you and you smacked his arm, other hand still cupping his chin. "Hey! Look at _me,"_ you barked and he returned. "Where are you."

"...A bathroom."

"A bathroom where?"

"Nnngh..."

"A bathroom _where?"_

"...In your condo."

"What's your full name?"

"Tholluxth Captor."

"How many fingers am I holdin' up?"

"...A hundred."

"Hey!" you snapped again, feeling cool relief flood back into you. "Asshole, how many fingers?"

"Three."

"What day is it?"

"A fucking hot thurthday."

"Who is the most frustrating person on this planet, aside from you?"

"...Karkat Vantath."

"Okay, _Jesus,_ don't _ever_ do that again. I would like to live a long life, thanks very much."

"Mmmph," the soaking boy replied, hands touching his head, eyes squeezing shut. "My head hurtth..."

"You're fuckin' lucky that's the only thing that's wrong with it," you muttered and sat back against the wall opposite him, glaring through your sunglasses. "What the fuck was that?"

He shifted to stare at the ground, clutching his bruising arm lightly, ignoring the water drops dripping from his hair. "...Jutht fainted."

"Right," you said flatly and watched him for a few seconds before pushing yourself off of the floor. "Can you stand up?"

"Uh, yeah..." he replied quietly and gripped the edge of the counter, using it to pull himself up. He kept his hands on the surface for a few seconds, wobbling slightly on bony legs, making sure that his balance was back where it should be. It was iffy at first and you stood ready to catch his ass if he fell again, but then it was all right. He was on his feet, and they were steady. "...Okay. I'm good."

You grunted a reply and followed him out, making sure he collapsed in his bed this time, before walking to the kitchen to get a cup of water and a bag of ice. Now that the adrenaline had waned away, you felt... well, honestly kind of pissed off. Not because you had to help him and play paramedic for a few minutes, but that it clearly was not just an accidental fluke. And, judging by the way he was acting, he wasn't going to offer an explanation, which irritated you even more. Not that your demeanor changed too noticeably, but you were definitely a little icier, and you walked back into Captor's room with a ghost of a scowl.

"Here, put this on your eye," you said and handed him the makeshift ice-pack. He did as you ordered, but didn't say anything back and kept his eyes on his knees. Fine. That was fine. "Don't go to sleep for a few hours. Just... drink water, eat, and play some Mass Effect or something. I'll be up."

He nodded in reply, gaze avoiding yours, and you turned the fuck around before you said something especially nasty. Fucking idiot. What the _hell._

You needed some answers.

 

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG] at 23:02 --

TG: before i explain why im somehow willing to deal with you of all people on this earth i need you to do one thing first  
TG: stop  
TG: dont say a fucking word  
TG: i know every cell in your body is just teeming with the need to rip into me and burn every inch with those blazing fires  
TG: but now is not that fucking time  
TG: so just shut up until you are able to talk to me without going apeshit  
TG: i'll even give you the magic word for free just this once and you better cherish the moment forever cause it wont happen again  
TG: please   
CG: ...  
CG: FINE.  
CG: WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT, ASSHOLE.   
TG: see now that wasnt so hard was it   
CG: BY ALL MEANS, KEEP TALKING.  
CG: DON'T BE SURPRISED WHEN I CONVENIENTLY FORGET THAT YOU WANTED SOME FUCKING CIVILITY, THOUGH.  
CG: I HAVE A WHOLE LIFE'S WORTH OF "BLAZING FIRES" AND BELIEVE ME WHEN I SAY IT IS TAKING EVERY FUCKING OUNCE OF MY SELF-CONTROL TO KEEP FROM DESTROYING YOUR SHIT EATING MUG WITH THEM, YOU DEGENERATE PIG OF A HUMAN BEING.  
CG: SO I WILL SIMPLY REPEAT MYSELF.  
CG: WHAT.  
CG: THE FUCK.  
CG: DO YOU WANT.   
TG: captor nearly pulled an elvis presley  
TG: and i would like to know why   
CG: YOU'RE GONNA HAVE TO COME DOWN FROM YOUR THRONE, YOUR SMUGLINESS, AND USE FUCKING ENGLISH TO TALK THE PEASANT.   
TG: wow  
TG: you are such a treasure  
TG: but sure i'll talk nice just for you  
TG: your friend just greeted my bathroom floor with his face   
CG: ...  
CG: FUCK.   
TG: yup   
CG: JESUS SPITTING CHRIST, I'M GOING TO FUCKING MURDER THAT CLUSTER OF USELESS CELLS.  
CG: HE IS USING UP PERFECTLY GOOD AIR THAT HE DOESN'T DESERVE.   
TG: feel free to do so after you tell me exactly what the hell just happened  
TG: using non-skullfucking syntax preferably   
CG: IS HE ALIVE?   
TG: yeah  
TG: no concussion somehow  
TG: gonna have a nice black eye tomorrow though   
CG: DAMN, YOU GOT MY HOPES UP FOR A MINUTE.   
TG: he is so lucky to have you for a friend   
CG: OOOOH BUUURRRNNN.  
CG: HE'S BEEN PROGRAMMING A LOT RECENTLY, RIGHT?   
TG: yeah i guess  
TG: making up for the shit he lost to that charming little apartment  
TG: that still makes me gag a little   
CG: HOLY SHIT, WE ACTUALLY AGREE ON SOMETHING.  
CG: MARK YOUR CALENDARS FOLKS, TODAY WILL GO DOWN IN HISTORY TEXTBOOKS EVERYWHERE AS "THE DAY DAVE STRIDER SAID SOMETHING RIGHT."   
TG: fuck this  
TG: im out   
CG: OH, SUCK IT, DOUCHEFUCK.  
CG: HAS ELVIS BEEN EATING REGULARLY?   
TG: sure i guess   
CG: HAVE YOU ACTUALLY WITNESSED HIM PUT FOOD INTO HIS MOUTH, CHEW IT UP, AND SWALLOW?   
TG: lovely visual that  
TG: and yeah in the mornings i guess but i just let him do his own thing the rest of the day  
TG: hes a big kid now he can handle it himself   
CG: NO, SEE, THAT'S WHERE YOU'RE WRONG.  
CG: HE CAN'T.   
TG: okay  
TG: what   
CG: HE GOES INTO THESE  
CG: I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO CALL THEM, "FUNKS" I GUESS.  
CG: HE JUST SITS ON HIS ASS IN FRONT OF HIS COMPUTER FOR DAYS, WRITING CODE FOR PEOPLE.  
CG: AND HE DOESN'T DO ANYTHING ELSE. DOESN'T EAT, DOESN'T SLEEP.  
CG: IT'S DISGUSTING.  
CG: I'M GUESSING THAT'S WHAT JUST HAPPENED.   
TG: so this has happened before   
CG: ONLY THING DIFFERENT THIS TIME IS "NO CONCUSSION."   
TG: okay  
TG: well  
TG: feel free to kill him then i'll just take a step out of the way  
TG: cause that is the most retarded thing ive ever heard   
CG: WELCOME TO THE WORLD, STRIDER, IT'S A TERRIBLE PLACE.  
CG: WAIT.   
TG: what   
CG: I TAKE THAT BACK.  
CG: IT'S A BEAUTIFUL PLACE.  
CG: OH MY GOD, IF THIS IS A WORLD IN WHICH YOU GET SADDLED WITH THE BIGGEST ASS-SUCKING MUD-FOR-BRAINS IN THE HISTORY OF EVER, THEN IT IS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL PLACE I HAVE EVER WITNESSED.  
CG: HOLY SHIT, I HAVE SEEN THE LIGHT.   
TG: what the fuck are you rambling about  
TG: i dont know how egbert understands you  
TG: i need a fucking translator   
CG: HAVE FUN TAKING CARE OF THE ANTI-SOCIAL INVALID.  
CG: IT'S GREAT FUN, BELIEVE ME.  
CG: IT'S MY FAVORITE PART OF OUR NECK-STRANGLING FRIENDSHIP.  
CG: OR WAS, ANYWAY.  
CG: BUT NOW THE TORCH IS HANDED OFF TO YOU.  
CG: AND I HAVE NEVER KNOWN HAPPINESS LIKE THIS BEFORE.   
TG: are you kidding  
TG: im not fucking mary poppins  
TG: he can get spoonfuls of sugar by his own damn self  
TG: not my problem   
CG: THEN BE SURE TO BRING A BOOK WITH YOU WHEN YOU TAKE HIM TO THE EMERGENCY ROOM.   
TG: fuck you  
TG: fuck everything about you  
TG: i dont know why i even messaged you in the first place  
TG: its gotten me nothing but a headache  
TG: god DAMN it   
CG: AND YET AGAIN, THE FEELING IS MUTUAL.   
TG: great  
TG: whatever  
TG: just  
TG: dont say anything about this conversation to anyone  
TG: not even egbert  
TG: its nobodys business but ours   
CG: WHAT, YOU DON'T WANT HIM TO KNOW HOW MUCH COCK YOU BLOW ON A DAILY AVERAGE?   
TG: no dumbass jesus christ  
TG: its about captor  
TG: pretty sure he wouldnt be very tickled to find out we're talking about his spectacular failure  
TG: and nobody else needs to smell his dirty laundry  
TG: so just delete this from your log and i'll delete it from mine  
TG: and we're solid   
CG: FINE. WHATEVER.   
TG: awesome  
TG: so  
TG: im gonna go have like ten fucking beers  
TG: so that i can forget all about this wonderful conversation   
CG: GREAT.  
CG: HOPE IT KILLS YOU.  
CG: ALSO...   
TG: what   
CG: JUST  
CG: MAKE SURE HE DOESN'T PASS OUT AGAIN, ALL RIGHT?  
CG: PRETTY SURE HE'S TEETERING ON THE EDGE OF BRAIN DAMAGE.  
CG: MORE THAN HE ALREADY HAS, ANYWAY.   
TG: yeah  
TG: will do   
CG: GOOD.   
TG: right  
TG: so  
TG: go fuck yourself   
CG: GET POISONED.

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG] at 23:29 --

 

Well, despite the fact that that got you the explanation you wanted, you now wanted to punch your fist through your monitor.

God _damn it._

Alcohol. Alcohol into your bloodstream. Right now.

You walked calmly out of your room, right past a startled brunette, and went straight for the imperial stout. You meant business. And business was good.

After a few deep gulps, a nervous shuffle interrupted your reverie and you looked over, expressionless. Your vision met an awkward looking figure, fully clothed this time, hands shoved in his hoodie. His eye was already starting to turn purple, you noticed absently. Looked like it hurt. _Bummer,_ followed a sarcastic thought. He shifted his weight.

"Tho..." the boy started and he stared at your feet. "What'd KK thay?"

Oh. _Oh._

"Uh..." you voiced wordlessly and suddenly felt very silly. _Well, shit._ He braved a look at you and, after a scrutinizing second, adopted a sort of pout.

"Oh, come on, I'm not thtupid," he grumbled, and then rubbed his arm. "Well, okay, I'm an _idiot..._ But I'm not _thtupid."_

"Right," you said and placed the bottle on the counter. "Sorry."

"Th'okay."

A pause.

"He said you're wastin' perfectly good air."

He let out a short laugh through his nose and the tension started to crumble away, little by little. He moved to lean against the end of the dividing wall and sighed. "Thoundth about right."

"I kind of agreed with him there for a sec."

"Yeah," eyes flicked up to you, then back down again. "I don't blame you."

"Wanna tell me what that was?"

"Jutht... me being an idiot."

"All right, fine," and you grabbed another bottle out of the fridge, popped it open, and held it out. "And are you going to be an idiot again? I can't be here to catch you 24/7."

"No, _mom,"_ he bit back with a smirk and took the drink, holding it up for you to tap with yours. "It won't happen again."

"Good," you said firmly, tapped the neck with your bottle, and mirrored him as he took a gulp. "Just... take a break, dude. Relax. And eat your fucking vegetables."

"Kay."

"Good."

"Right."

"Right."

"Thtreet Fighter?"

 _"Bring it."_


	7. Lose a Battle, Plan for a War

**CHAPTER 6**  


 _Lose a Battle, Plan for a War_

  


____________________________________________________

  
\-- tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 8:48 --

TT: I see peerless wit isn't the only thing that runs in the family.  
TG: gonna have to elaborate for the ignorant dumbass over here  
TG: i mean the vagueness is nostalgic and all  
TG: definitely gives me warm fuzzies all over just thinking about our hundreds of sassy lit battles  
TG: but im on like two hours of sleep  
TG: and that shit aint conducive to plowing through your mind games  
TG: we'll both be left with bitter tastes in our mouths  
TG: and wheres the fun in that  
TT: Your new roommate.  
TG: what about him  
TT: He strikes a remarkable parallel between us.  
TT: One I had entertained mild suspicions about, but still surprises me nonetheless.  
TG: whoa  
TG: what  
TG: you saying you have an adorkable nerd to counter your irresistible manliness  
TT: Yes. That is exactly what I'm saying.  
TT: I even discounted her rent.  
TG: wait how the fuck do you know about oh god damn it egbert has the biggest fucking mouth  
TG: he can fit like thirty feet in there i swear  
TG: probably has a secret guinness world record for letting the most cats out of the bag  
TG: hey best friend im just gonna share everything i know about you with everyone else that we know so that we can all be like a big happy secrets-circlejerk together and nobody will feel left out  
TG: who needs privacy right this is the new millennium  
TG: gotta get with the times man  
TT: To be fair, you should have known better than to tell him information that you preferred to be kept private.  
TG: i didn't tell him  
TG: fucking small world problems  
TT: You didn't?  
TT: I suddenly don't understand anything.  
TG: my hot nerd roommates best friend is my best friends not-hot nerd roommate  
TT: Give me a moment to decipher that Escherian reply.  
TG: take your time  
TT: Wow.  
TT: How did that happen?  
TG: babe how does anything happen  
TG: pure unadulterated coincidence  
TT: Fair enough.  
TT: Life has it's full share of baffling, yet somehow unavoidable twists.  
TT: Don't call me babe.  
TG: sure thing sugar  
TT: Get bent, toots.  
TG: coffee in an hour?  
TT: How dare you insinuate there was ever a doubt.  
TG: cool

\-- tentacleTherapist [TT] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 9:05 --

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ghostyTrickster [GT] at 9:05 --

TG: hey  
TG: hey  
TG: hey  
TG: hey egbert  
GT: dude what  
TG: fuck you

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering ghostyTrickster [GT] at 9:09 --

GT: okay gnight

_____________

Morning called out to you cheerfully with a chorus of wakening cicadas and you stretched back in your chair. After your bones finished crackling and your muscles became loose, you let out a slow, deep sigh. Being part of such a tight-knit circle was admittedly one of the greatest things you had ever experienced in your entire life, but it most definitely came with its share of little pitfalls. Everyone knowing everything about everybody was one of them. But, whatever. Having someone to shoot shit with wasn't the worst thing that could have happened to you. Especially if it was Lalonde. Sister was sharp.

Though, you weren't feeling so knife-edged yourself at the moment, head still thick with sleep. It had been a while since you had stayed up so late, but it was for a good cause. Everything had thankfully fallen back into the old routine after last night's debacle, but... too much Street Fighter. _Way_ too much Street Fighter. The kid was _pro._

You resisted the urge to pound a fist into Skinny's door and dragged your feet to the kitchen, wanting nothing more than a giant bowl of Cookie Crisp in front of you. Today was _definitely_ one of those days.

And like clockwork, not ten minutes after you sat down with your indulgent breakfast, an exhausted looking figure emerged from the hallway, sporting some impressive bruises on his right eye and arm. He lifted a hand weakly in greeting and paused in his walk as a massive yawn overtook his face. You took a break from devouring your cereal and surveyed the boy.

"Nice shiner," you said with a visible grimace and he chuckled, walking toward the table.

"You should thee the other guy," he said with a grin, and scratched his scalp, looking for all the world like a victorious, self-satisfied little kid. It was odd, to say the least. He hadn't looked this content since the day he moved in. Huh. The tile must have knocked some sense into him. "Oh, and that'th not all I got..."

He lifted up his t-shirt and your eyes locked on a nasty purple smear on his side, which must have come from the lip of the shower. Now _that_ did not look too comfortable.

"Sheesh, dude," you remarked and absentmindedly counted Captor's ribs. Two, four, six... "Hurt to breathe?"

"Nah, nothing'th broken," he shrugged and lowered the shirt before walking to dig in the freezer for some waffles. "Jutht thore ath hell."

"Mmm," you hummed and stared at his back as he rummaged. Something had changed. The brunette had accumulated maybe, _maybe,_ ten hours of sleep _total_ over the past week, and yet... he seemed brighter. More relaxed, or... or something. You didn't know what. Could have been the fact that he had streamrolled you in more than half of the game matches last night. _Yeah, probably, the little shit._ You returned to your breakfast.

"Hey, Thtrider..." he said slowly, hands on the counter, eyes fixed to the toaster.

"Yo."

"Thorry about all that."

You looked back up at him, face blank, spoon halfway to your mouth. After a few seconds of awkward silence, he looked over to you to see what was wrong, shifting under your stare, jumping slightly as the waffles popped up. You didn't say a single word.

"Dude, what... what'th wrong?" he asked, searching your unmoving figure in vain. Still, nothing. A minute stretched out uncomfortably until, eventually, a smile pulled at his face, more and more, and then he finally cracked, muttering ow ow ow through his laughing breaths.

"Dude, it is _too fucking early_ for that shit."

"Okay, haha! Ouch... Thorry," he replied and drenched his waffles in syrup. "My bad."

"All right, good," you muttered gratefully, the edge of your mouth curling just barely. As he set down his plate in front of you and dug in, you snuck a glance through your shades. Aside from the hematoma coloring part of his face and the sleepless dark circle underneath the other eye, he definitely looked better. More comfortable, more natural. At ease. Open. And kind of... _whoa... okay._

Kind of... _hot as fuck._

Well then.

_____________

In summary, with events listed in chronological order:

> 1\. meet stranger, he's not too bad looking  
> 2\. stranger becomes roommate  
> 3\. okay, he's actually kind of cool  
> 4\. connect over mutual friends  
> 5\. you both get along really well  
> 6\. oh shit  
> 7\. FUCKING IDIOT  
> 8\. GOD DAMN IT  
> 9\. ARRGH  
> 10\. okay  
> 11\. he gets it  
> 12\. he ruins you in Street Fighter  
> 13\. dumbass geek  
> 14\. you talk the next morning  
> 15\. he seems a lot better  
> 16\. his lopsided grin looks so silly with that black eye  
> 17\. you realize he's sex on legs

Right.

You ran the situation over a few times in your mind as you zipped through the streets on your bike, warm and sticky wind tugging at your shirt. Honestly, the whole situation wasn't completely ridiculous; as just a regular joe, he was pretty much all right. A bit too thin, but not bad. It was probably safe to say that he got a few second glances as he walked across the campus grounds. Okay. The statistical facts were established. Great.

So, when did he become incomparable to every one else? Frankly, _frighteningly,_ the more you thought about his stupid smile, the more fetching became. He was quickly crossing over from "minor prospect" to "Holy shit. _Holy shit. HOLY SHIT."_ In just a few days? Apparently, yes. So, what flipped the switch?

Okay, you know what, who cared? It was attraction, for crying out loud. Not a goddamn frog dissection. What was there to figure out? He was smart (in most areas), he shared some similar interests with you, he got your jokes, he had a really awesome smile... He was just attractive. And that's all there really was to say on the matter.

Besides, you didn't really want a lengthy explanation, in These Terms using Figures A through G with some Helpful Diagrams and Pie Charts, to define how ludicrously stupid you looked with such a big, uncontrollable, absurd grin on your face. It didn't need a textbook answer. It just _was._

Granted, your brilliant and Machiavellian sibling would have loved to tear into your reaction and apply every definition, category, and label to it faster than you could say "holy crap, Lalonde, it's not a timed essay question," so you wiped that smile off of your face as fast as you could before you rolled up to the coffee shop that you two met at every other friday. It was difficult, but Striders didn't have the best poker faces for nothing.

As you sat down across from the fierce and beautiful blonde, a cup of black coffee already waiting in front of the empty seat, you greeted her as you always did; an acknowledging nod, nice and short. Today, however, your greeting was answered a little differently than the usual polite and proper hello.

"My, don't you look chipper."

God _damn_ it.

 _"How,"_ you breathed, eyes narrowing suspiciously at Lalonde as she daintily sipped her latte, one percent please, with an extra shot of espresso. She looked positively _wicked._

"I don't probe and tell."

So, remember way back when you thought proudly to yourself that nobody, you meant _nobody,_ could crack Dave Strider? Yeah. Rose Lalonde was the invisible little asterisk that followed that statement. And, bless her heart, she _knew it._ But, at least she had the common courtesy not to rub it in. No, better let it simmer just so, just enough to make you question the words that fell from your lips, the very twitches of each of your muscle groups, the way you breathed the air between you. _Damn, she was good._

"So," she started smoothly, bringing the drink up to her smirking lips. You met her gaze evenly, and matched her little sip.

"So."

"Good to see you so well."

"You too," you replied with a nod, knowing the sentiment was genuine this time. She raised her cup with a smile.

"I have some questions for you."

"Shoot."

"Why didn't John tell me that he had such a connection during our conversation?"

"Dunno," you replied with a shrug. "Probably got so excited that roomie's a hacker. You know how he gets about shit like that. Like all hackers are grizzled man-spies who use their l33t typey skills to catch Big Bad Meanies that break the law. Or whatever the fuck Swordfish was about."

"He did mention something about wanting to meet a real-life Hugh Jackman."

"Jesus christ, that kid has problems."

Her mouth twitched minutely and her eyebrows raised a touch, "Putting aside that exceptionally astute observation for now, how is said grizzled man-spy?"

"Not bad. Quiet, doesn't eat much, has a cute lisp."

"Cute?"

"Come on Lalonde, how could a grown man with a lisp not be cute?"

"I'm beginning to think our dear John Egbert is not the only one with 'problems.'"

"Beginning? Like you haven't been developin' a dissertation on Dave Strider's Convoluted yet Undeniably Alluring Encephalon ever since we met."

"Oh, that?" she remarked with a shrug, gazing off distantly into the coffee shop, feigning indifference. "It's already been featured in no less than three major scientific journals; I'm expecting an APA award at the very least. And encephalon is a good word."

"Good to know my Freudian brainwaves are fuelin' your psychobabble career. Wouldn't want that to fizzle out anytime soon. And thanks, I thought so too."

"Speaking of Freud..."

You rolled your eyes, "Oh, here we go..."

"Got any plans for said 'hot nerd roommate with a cute lisp'?"

"Are you kiddin'? I've got rose petals, a smooth jazz mix, and a couple dozen red candles from Bed Bath and Beyond waitin' at home. Lucky fucker won't know what hit him."

An eyebrow lifted, "What scent of candle?"

"Passion Fruit."

"Your prowess in the ways of bedroom solicitation never ceases to impress me."

"Best be takin' notes girlfriend, these tips don't come around every day."

"Believe me, your techniques are duly noted, folded, and hidden away underneath my pillow lest I forget them during the throes of wild lovemaking."

"Whoa, whoa," you said quickly, and held up both hands in a gesture of surrender. "I definitely do not need to know what Thelma and Louise are doin' behind closed doors, thank you very much."

"No, you certainly don't."

 _"Okay,_ we're takin' the direction this enlightening conversation train is goin' and turnin' it the fuck around. Yes? Is this bitch flipped?"

"Indeed, this bitch is indubitably flipped. All 180 degrees," she assured, looking just like a cat that caught a mouse. Someone forgot to give her the memo telling her not to play with her food.

"Fan-fuckin-tastic," you muttered, shaking your head. She sipped her drink smugly before returning to the conversation.

"I don't believe you actually answered my question, Strider. Does this 'not bad' roommate actually serve as prey to your predator?"

"Oh, the kid's a fuckin' stranded gazelle," you said with a glimmer of a smile. She seemed equally pleased with the answer.

"Well, do keep me updated."

"You'll be the first to know."

"And good luck."

"Won't need it. But thanks, Rose."

"Of course," she replied, and her eyes were definitely twinkling. "Dave."

_____________

When you got back to the condo, shirt and hair soaked through, you felt simultaneously heroically valiant and completely defeated. Not that this was a surprise in any way. It was precisely how you felt after talking with your sister, _every single time,_ and it wasn't as if you hated the feeling. It was just... just _ugh._ Just ugh. Yeah. That was pretty much the best way you could describe it.

As you kicked off your shoes by the front door, the sounds of gunfire, explosions, and recorded shouting reached your ears and you looked up at the tv. There was furious movement on the screen every few seconds except for a dark rifle, swaying softly in place. You padded further into the living room until your gaze caught on the sofa.

Captor was sprawled out on the cushions, completely unconscious, an Xbox controller under his arm like a stuffed animal. He looked spectacularly ridiculous. You walked over and leaned your arms on the back of the sofa and stared down at him, a laugh threatening to bubble up past your throat.

The chase was on.


	8. The Fools Gather and One is Crowned King

  
**  
CHAPTER 7   
**

_The Fools Gather and One is Crowned King_

  


____________________________________________________

  


But, not for a little while.

Didn't want to freak him out just yet. He had only just moved in, just gotten used living with you, and had spilled a lot more information about himself than he probably wanted. Also, two weeks was a bit soon to be making serious moves, and you kind of wanted this to work. Like, to _work._ And you knew, without a shadow of a doubt, to make it work — to _work_ — you needed patience. A steady progression. Nice and slow. And hell, school hadn't even started yet. So you were going to take things gradually, step by step.

You had all the time in the world.

And besides, you really needed to finish that film score first.

_____________

  


A few days later, not too long after you sent the final draft to the film group, your phone buzzed with a text from John.

aced ochem, yesss  
come over for pizza  
tell sollux to come too!  
and bring some cash

You blinked absently at the words. The bright and cheery glow of the screen did nothing to offset the frightening and terrible thing that it foreshadowed. Welp. The time had come to face the music.

You couldn't _wait._

"Hey, wanna come to Egbert's for pizza?" you asked and peeked your head into Skinny's room where he sat typing at his computer, thankfully not as possessed as last time. The second the words left your mouth, he froze solid and then turned around very slowly, back stiff, eyes wide.

"Hell. Yeth."

"Good, grab some cash," you replied with a satisfied nod. You were halfway to the living room before you turned back around and popped back in the doorway with an addendum. "And some earplugs."

A laugh followed you as you went to the kitchen to collect a couple of random beers in an empty cardboard caddy. Drinks in hand, you snatched your keys and went to slip on your flip-flops by the door, the brunette padding behind you.

"What'th the cash for?" he asked curiously, stuffing his wallet in his back pocket. You gave him a noncommittal shrug and opened the front door, a soft night breeze greeting you on your way out. June bugs scattered as you closed the door, faint flashes of lightning flickering off in the distance. It was hot, but clear. Good night for pizza.

"Dunno. Egbert's got something up his sleeve," you said, sandals clanging against the metal stairs.

"Mmm," Captor hummed, sliding easily into the truck when it clicked open. It was dark, the parking lot illuminated by some porch lights and the warm orange glow of sodium, so you risked a sideways glance at him as you started the engine. His eye looked better; still bruised, but it wasn't nearly as rich in color. It had shifted into more of a splotchy red, haloed with yellow, which was hard to see in the dark, and his arm had looked clearer as well. His hair was still as messy as ever. Clothes hanging kinda loose off of bony shoulders, and that collarbone...

"How's the eye?" you asked, interrupting yourself. _Slow._

"Hurtth like a bitch," he replied lightly with a laugh through his nose. "But it'th going away."

"Better hope Vantas doesn't bring it back."

"That'th why I've got _you_ ath a meat-shield."

You huffed a short laugh, eyeing the happily smug look on Captor's face out of the corner of your eye. He was completely at ease, legs stretched out with ankles crossed loosely, watching the thunderstorm off on the horizon. Elbow leaning out the window. Back hunched. _God._

It was a welcome change, for sure. You had been keeping a vague eye on him ever since the Elvis Incident, just to be sure he wouldn't slip back. He was still working on codes pretty furiously, and even though the fall had given him a well needed reality check, he was only human. Humans forget.

You were sure to casually make extra food whenever you cooked, never anything too fancy, but it got him to come out of his lair. It was pretty nice actually, stuffing your faces with pseudo-stir-fry while attempting to Spartan-laser each other on _Valhalla,_ effectively pissing everybody off. He would still forget to eat in between then and breakfast sometimes, but instead of getting pissed off, you had given him the benefit of the doubt and adopted an emergency tactic in case he went more than six hours without sustenance.

You would wait patiently until he showed his face outside of his room and then proceed to fling string cheese sticks at him one after another until you heard the answer you wanted, which was something along the lines of: "Oww! What the fu— shit, okay, okay! Ow, _fuck, uncle! Uncle!_ Pffhahaha!"

It worked every time.

And, in just a few days, he had rebounded back, color back in his skin, and a more attentive look in his eyes. He riposted your words as soon as you came up with them, and didn't yawn quite as much anymore. This made keeping your resolute determination to wait a little more difficult, but in the meantime, you could just enjoy the company of a clever and friendly geek that gave you a run for your money in anything split-screen. Being completely honest, you felt pretty damn lucky for that.

Not five minutes later, John's tiny little house greeted you through the darkness, front yard overrun with weeds. You could see Captor staring at it; he must not have been here before. Being greeted by explosive fury in a tiny package may not have been the best way to get a tour of the place, but... it would certainly be entertaining. You both slid out of the truck and he walked up to the metal fence, turning around to analyze the neighborhood. It was primarily made up of other college students; beat-up cars lined the street, the trees and bushes were unkempt, and green trash cans overflowed with beer bottles and greasy pizza boxes. A stray cat scampered by, kicking up tiny puffs of dust in its wake.

The gate squeaked as you pushed it open and you jerked your head toward the house when Captor looked back at you, a low roll of thunder rumbling softly in the background. You could hear the faint sounds of television and that bright, stupid, awesome laugh of Egbert's and you thought to yourself, _man... it's been a while since we hung out. Dumbass overachiever._

As you two walked up to the bare-bulb illuminated front door, you could feel a sort of nervous apprehension settle in the air. The flat wood stared at you both, waiting for you to knock your fist into it, and you both were stock-still on the welcome mat. This was it. No turning back.

You leaned over, close to Captor, and his head turned toward you minutely, questioningly. You let the long pause hang in the air between you before you uttered a dramatic, whimpering, "Hold me," and then banged your fist into the door. He struggled to keep his sniggering under control as the barrier flung open to reveal a short, messy-haired figure that positively radiated _murder._

A deadly silence stretched between the cavernous door and the summer air outside and blue-grey eyes burned black, scorching holes into both of you, attached to shoulders that shook with the need to release the eruption that was building within. You clenched the cardboard handle of the six-pack a little tighter and heard Captor take in a small breath.

"...Hey, KK."

 _Three, two, one..._

You both jerked backward as a middle finger was thrust in front of Captor's face, _held a few seconds,_ then the other hand brandished one in yours, _one two three,_ and then pulled away before returning with a theatrical, spectacular, _ladies and gentlemen_ double-bird combo that struck the air centimeters from your noses before the bloodthirsty being whipped around with a flourish and stomped back into the depths of the house.

An enormous, toothy, and thoroughly entertained smile came into view as the terror disappeared and your wide eyes, shaded and dichromatic alike, were met with an enthusiastic wave.

"Hey guys!"

 _Phew._

"Hey dork," you said, unfazed, and stepped into the messy house but was stopped by an open, requesting hand. Egbert definitely looked like he was planning something as he grinned at both of you, eyebrows raised suggestively.

"Ah ah ah, entrance fee is a ten," he explained, and then screwed up his face a little in reconsideration. "Oh, and some ones for the pizza."

"What for," you said as you dug in your pocket, Captor equally as curious as he pulled the money from his wallet. The biochem major simply shook his head and wiggled his fingers before the bills were handed off. The ruse would have continued beautifully were it not for the buzzkiller-in-waiting. A disdainful snort sounded from the kitchen before His Imperious Condescension Himself reappeared, a slice of greasy cheese pizza held in his hand.

"It's for a fucking stupid game tournament that Fungus Brains somehow thinks will be 'totally awesome!'" the short, gravelly voiced said irately, imitating Egbert's goofy demeanor. He tore off a bite of pizza and gestured toward the door. "Better walk out with your Hamilton's while you still can."

"Karkaaaaat!"

"What game?" Skinny piped up, looking instantly intrigued. This ride had taken a turn right up his alley.

"Super Smash, _duh!"_

 _Oh, excellent._ A competitive laugh sounded from Captor and you knew that this night would not end without blood. You made your way over to the kitchen and passed a glaring figure with an offhand, "You ready to get served, shorty?"

"If by being served you mean standing over your kneeling, repentant failure of an existence to watch as your pathetic, shit-spouting face begs for a chance to kiss my boots," he snarled and turned slowly around to spit his words up into your face. "Then yes. I'm fucking ready."

And then, almost imperceptibly, his scowl diminished a little bit as he jerked his head back toward the front room of the house, where Captor and Egbert were making small talk about video games and how crazy it was that you had gotten him as a roommate. You slid the beers into the fridge before taking one out for yourself, popping off the cap with the bottle opener on your key ring. Ah, the barker-sans-bite felt such a thing as _concern?_ Well Lord Almighty on High, color you _flabbergasted._

"He's fine," you said lowly and grabbed a slice of pepperoni. Those pale eyes were locked on you like a sniper's beam, looking as if they didn't know whether to trust you or to pull the trigger. As much as you couldn't stand the volatile, judgmental piece of work, at least his heart was in the right place. Though long steeped in foul temper. Idiot. "And all the marbles are still in the bag."

"That I doubt," he snapped back and grabbed a drink, popped it open on the counter, and nearly shattered yours with a forceful, challenging (and just the tiniest hint appreciative) clang of glass before stalking off to accost his best friend. The challenge was stated, proverbial gauntlet hurled at the ground. All sentiments dissolved. _Come at me, bro._

You had no doubt that, at the very least, he would try. The rivalry between you two had been brewing quietly for years, just sort of simmering on a low flame, stirred roughly every few months. The soup had been lukewarm at first; boring, tasteless, and forced out of the can by a well-meaning, blue-eyed boy wonder who wanted nothing more than his Very Best Bro 4 Life to get along with the New Guy, Who Was Kind of a Bit Prickly, but Really Cool Once You Get to Know Him, Promise! Thorn-bushes were prickly. Cacti were prickly. Karkat Vantas was a Molotov Cocktail filled with paring knives. Prickly your hot, choice ass.

And a mutual doofus did not a totally awesome friendship make. So, you had both settled for the next best thing; barely concealed (mainly for the sake of said doofus), ten-foot-pole's length arch-enemyship. It had worked reasonably well, mainly functioning by completely ignoring each other aside from occasional stab, up until the moment Sollux Captor unknowingly threw a giant wrench in the works with a simple act of unconsciousness. Now you were both forced to almost, kind of, begrudgingly act like civil human beings toward each other in the name of keeping another human being out of the post-mortal coil. You had never felt so bitter. Naturally, you were going to remedy this by kicking Karkat Vantas's short little ass up Super Smash Bros Boulevard and back and bitterness would never taste so sweet. It was about fucking time princess got her just desserts.

Acidic insults drifted over from the entryway and Egbert swapped places with his roommate with a laugh, dropping the bills into an empty soup bowl on the low table in front of the tv, looking incredibly pleased with himself. He made his way over to the kitchen with a grin, which somehow managed to get bigger when he walked up to you.

"Hey stranger," he said cheerfully, looking absolutely no different than he did when he was a teenager. All messy hair, rolling eyes, and bubbly laughter. If you closed your eyes, he was thirteen again with a bit of a deeper voice. Open them, and you would quietly think to yourself, _all he did was get taller._

"Hey. Gratz on the A."

"Ugh, thanks, it was a pain in the ass," he groaned and started stuffing his face. "Mewuh dake dummuh kadded."

"Sure."

Those blue eyes squinted with cheerfulness as the owner got a hold on his manners. "Haha, I said never take summer classes. Stupid, stupid, dumb."

"Dude, I could've told you that. I _did_ tell you that, dumbass. You're a shi-"

"Shitty listener, I know I know," he groaned and started digging through the fridge. "I just wanted to get it out of the way! Screw ochem, molecular is where it's at."

"Whatever you say."

"Yep!" and he held out a bottle for you to pop open, grinning like always. You obliged him and he took a swig, before nearly spitting it out as he had a thought. "Oh! I almost forgot, I got an email from Jade!"

"Oh, yeah?" you perked up this time; you hadn't seen her in a long time either. Way longer than Egbert, actually. Wow. Time flew. "How's she doin'?"

"So. Awesome," he punctuated with wide-eyes and shook his head in mock disbelief. "Dude, the pictures she took. They are crazy."

"I bet."

"She got to go _inside_ the pyramids, like _inside-inside,_ and in some other tombs too! Oh man, I am so jealous," he gushed, gesturing carelessly with food and drink in his hand, managing not to spill anything. "It is _so awesome,_ even better than The Mummy!"

"The real thing? Better than a two-hour screen-date with Brendan Fraser?" you breathed and brought your empty hand up to your heart. _"No."_

"Yes it is, and fuck you," he said with a dramatic eyeroll which was not quite enough to hide the toothy grin. "Remind me to forward it to you, with the pictures. Oh, and there's a message for you too. I think she was in a hurry and so she just sent it to me."

"Cool, thanks."

"You bet," he piped and stuffed the rest of the crust into his mouth, looking like the goofiest nearly-grown-man on the planet. Some things never changed.

As soon as his hand was free, he hopped up onto the counter next to you and leaned down slightly, glancing over at the other boys before they disappeared, the foul language and grumbling fading away as Vantas begrudgingly showed Captor the rest of the place. John looked down at you and gestured vaguely at his eye. "So... what's with his face? Looks nasty."

"Shenanigans," you said shortly and sipped your drink. "It's fine. Princess didn't spill the beans?"

"Nope," he said with a shrug.

"Hmm," you hummed. That was a bit of a surprise. You would have bet money on Shorty going nuts with something new to gripe about.

"Yeah, he's been sorta weird lately," he sighed and kicked his legs slowly, fiddling with his bottle. "Not that that's bad. Less ear-bleeding... But I don't think he's as pissed about Sollux moving in with you. Or, it's a different kind of pissed or something. More 'I'm gonna be really cagey and grumbly about it' and less 'I'm gonna run over them with a city bus.'"

You snorted and leaned back against the counter. "That's adorable. Careful, or I'm gonna get a sudden urge to pinch his cheeks and knit him a thank-you sweater."

"Pfff, you are so weird," he replied with a laugh. "Speaking of, how _is_ living with Sollux?"

"Good. I make him breakfast in bed on the weekends and he planted some flowers and vegetables in the garden. We're thinking about redoing the kitchen."

This time, Egbert _did_ spit out some of his drink and that bright, spirited laugh filled the house. It took a few seconds for him to compose himself, and when he did, it was still littered with little snickers and he dropped his forehead on his palm. _"God,_ dude, you're outta your _mind."_

You said nothing back, but raised your drink in agreement and smirked slightly. It was so easy, making jokes with Egbert. So easy and familiar. A routine that neither of you wanted to ever fall out of, even with all the changes that cropped up in life. It was something you could count on. A beaten path underneath your old sneakers.

"Oh hey, are you gonna be around during winter break and Christmas?"

"Where the hell would I go?" you asked with a skeptical look. He rolled his eyes again with a shrug.

"I dunno, Vegas? Anyway, shut up, Jade said she's coming back for a week around Christmas and wants to get together with us," he explained and kicked off of the counter to go grab another slice. "I already talked to Rose, so you don't really have a choice... But just wanted to give you a heads up."

"How considerate. And yeah, I'll be here."

"Sweet. You wouldn't want to miss it, anyway," and he stuffed his face with a gleam in his eye. Oh, here we go. Another drink, please.

"Why, my good man, indulge me," you drawled and cracked open another beer. "I can't bear this mystery."

"Rose says she's gonna bring her girlfriend."

 _Oh, hello. What._ You raised your eyebrow slowly and took in the diabolical look on your best friend's face. Rose had hinted at her relationship multiple times, half-confirming and half-obfuscating it every time it came up. You had been approximately 48% sure she was completely making it up, just to see your reaction to such a circumstance. Guess not. Well, 52% wasn't too bad. Still the majority.

"I did have plans to see every Nutcracker show I could get seats for, but if her lady's coming out of the ether... I think I can pencil it in."

"Good," he quipped with a knowing smile. "Apparently she makes killer eggnog."

"I'm in love already."

"Don't tell Rose that, she'll ruin you," and his grin widened two-fold, getting even brighter when the other duo reappeared. "All right! Let's do this!"

"You ready to get creamed, four-eyeth?"

"Oh ho, I think not! You better get your thumbs loose, I've been practicing."

"Ain't enough to dethrone the king, Egderp."

"Shut the fuck up, all of you, you're making me retch. Hope you have a favorite plot in the cemetery picked out, cause I'm gonna fucking kill all of you assholes."

You all then proceeded to have one of the worst Super Smash tournaments in the history of college space.

Captor completely destroyed all of you.

 _With Jigglypuff._


	9. Coffee Talk

**CHAPTER 8**  


 _Coffee Talk_

____________________________________________________

  


"Good haul."

"Why, thank you."

"Finally gonna buy those cute heels you've been pining over?"

"Ha, I wish. Nah, it'll go thtraight into an $80 texthtbook that I can't avoid anymore. Which I'll probably end up never opening."

"Such is the curse of academia."

"Theriouthly. Fuck the bookthtore."

Early morning heat greeted you cheerfully as you stepped outside Egbert's house, buzzing cicadas already in full swing, humidity settling like a blanket. A storm had rolled through quickly, certainly enhancing the competitive tone of last night's precedings, but now the aftermath was quiet mugginess and hazy skies.

Despite having stayed up well past midnight (as well as consuming an impressive amount of beer and an even more impressive amount of ice cream sandwiches), you woke up at the crack of 8 o'clock and Skinny clumsily rolled off the couch just minutes later. After swiping a half-gallon of orange juice and some left over pizza from the fridge, you and your roommate headed off to your truck, leaving two snoring idiots sprawled on the floor. Neither of you had the heart to disturb such peaceful creatures and, frankly, didn't want to be around when they woke up and assessed their losses. Better to slip away while you still could.

As the engine rumbled to life, you sat back for a moment and rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. Classes started soon. The get-together last night was a nice distraction, you didn't have to worry about housing issues anymore, and a tiny part of you was itching to be forced into productivity again, but... it was still one of those things that just loomed in front of you, a dark stormcloud off in the distance whose thunder was just barely audible. The workload was bound to be insane. At least most of your gen-eds were out of the way. The less bullshit you had to put up with, the better.

Your sentiments were mirrored by a sigh that passed that passed through Captor's nose as he sunk into the seat, half-heartedly clicking the seatbelt in place. He looked completely wiped, bruises softly visible on pale skin. But, despite all that, he definitely looked happier. Less tense at least, which was a relief considering what he probably had to deal with from his coal-haired best friend. His clothes were wrinkled and his hair was mussed, messy and uncaring, but... Well, the appeal still held, apparently. His discheveled self was more than easy on your shaded eyes. All earth-toned fabric and a scratched wristwatch. His nose was sort of pointed and you noticed for the first time how toned his calves were. Definitely a biker. _Bet he could bring a tough game. Note to self._

"Ihop?" you said after a moment of engine-rumbling peacefullness. You watched his chest rise with a breath, his head still laid back and those eyes still closed. The response he let out was weary, comfortable, and more than a little content.

"God yeth. Thlap me when we get there."

"Sure thing," you replied and pulled away from Egbert's house without any misgivings about where you were going; you knew the way to Ihop by heart. Both John and Jade _really_ liked pancakes.

When you killed the engine and turned to rouse the brunette, you actually did have to slap him out of his stupor; the drive had been less than fifteen minutes, and he managed to pass out again within the first five. You informed him that you had arrived and he squinted stupidly at you for a moment and then groggily shoved you back so that he could slide out of the truck. He was a shuffling wraith until a laminated menu of colorful breakfast plates sparkled up at him, not noticing the waitress standing next to your table, ready to take your orders.

"Yo, Skinny."

"Huh?" he snapped up to look at you before confusedly acknowledging the girl looking down at him, pen poised over her notepad. "Oh."

"What can I get you?"

"A 2x2x2."

"And to drink?"

"Uh..."

"Something with caffeine," you piped in, watching him with a growing sense of amusement. He raised a floppy hand and wagged it in your direction, nodding loosely, his eyes focused on nothing in particular.

"Yeah, that."

"So... is coffee all right then?"

"Oh, I don't really-"

"He says that's fine," you interrupted.

"I don't drink coffee."

"You do now."

"...Is that all?"

"Yep."

"All right, I'll have your drinks right out for you."

"Thanks," you replied with a nod and turned back to Captor, who seemed to be struggling with catching up to the present moment.

"Dude, what?"

"You're already gonna be a junior. It's a graduation requirement."

"But it'th nathty."

"And now you're homeless."

"Do I have to?"

"Cheap rent. Saved your life. Buyin' you breakfast."

"Wait, what?" he chirped and shook his head to clear his cobwebbed brain. You laughed internally at the sight; you moved too fast for him this early in the morning, and it felt kind of nice. "No way, I already took a ten from you. Let me uthe KK'th money to pay, he oweth uth for being thuch a whiner anyway."

"Nope."

"...Theriouthly?"

"I don't joke, Specs," you replied with a smirk and nodded appreciatively when the waitress came back and set down two cups, cream and sugar, and a pot of black coffee down in between you two. "A true gentleman never lets the lady pay."

His eyes narrowed viciously at you, determined not to see the undoubtedly uncomfortable reaction from the young girl standing over your table. After a silent pause she disappeared without a word and Captor pushed his glasses up to rub at his eyes, sighing deeply. He tried to sound irritated, but you didn't miss that little twitch of his mouth. _You got no chance, kid. None at all._

"Just try it," you said and poured out the black liquid into the cups. "Use cream if you really have to. No sugar though, that shit's sacrilegious."

"Fine," he sighed and glared down at the steaming cup. He grudgingly poured some cream in and stirred, looking like a six-year-old faced with a plate of asparagus. You felt remarkably like a snot-nosed brat yourself, ruthlessly teasing your kiddish crush. Stepping on his sand castle in the playground, dropping grass in his hair. _Douchebag and Nerd Boy, sittin' in a tree._ "Jerk."

"Saved your life."

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled and sipped the brew carefully, steeling himself for horror. His face was scrunched up in a grimace and he blinked a few times before setting the cup gently down on the table, glaring accusingly at you. He attempted to sneer, the effect somewhat lessened by his exhaustion, and slumped back against the cushioned seat. "It'th awful. Horrible. Terrible."

You just smirked and leaned back against the booth, taking in his tired shoulders and mottled skin. _Tag, you're it._ "Glad you like it."

"Hmph."

"So," you started and with a wave of your hand, dismissed the combative air. "How many new cuss words did you learn last night?"

"Well, it wath weird..." the brunette answered cryptically and stared at the beige drink sitting in front of him. A hand rubbed his healing arm, and you payed closer attention this time. "He didn't theem that mad. Annoyed, sure... but..."

"Relieved?" you offered and then blew on your drink.

"Umm... Maybe," he mumbled and let his head fall back against the cushioned booth. "Not completely."

Vantas's scowling face swam up into your mind and you tore it apart for hints, those little doors into his real feelings that he tried so desperately to bolt shut. You didn't know the tricks though, and so the puzzle remained unsolved. Even Captor, who had known him for years, seemed to flounder when trying to describe it. For all of the vitriol that you had grown accustomed to from the fiery boy, he managed to be completely unexpected when it came to things he actually cared about.

"He..." and Skinny drifted off for a moment, brows furrowed in thought, and then tipped forward again to lean his elbows against the table. He rubbed the back of his neck, fishing for the right words. "Whenever I... you know, forget to eat and thtuff, he alwayth getth really edgy. Or, freaked out or thomething. I don't know how to word it, but he doethn't talk to me like he usually doeth. No yelling. He lookth at me like he'th gonna shatter me jutht by talking."

He paused and tried some more of the coffee, gathering and organizing his thoughts carefully. You sat silently, ignoring the chatter of the group of elderly folks a few tables behind you. Thankfully you had been seated in a corner, which loosed Sollux's inhibitions. You vaguely registered the idea that Captor must trust you an awful lot to dig up these skeletons here and now. This moment; it was important.

"He alwayth thinkth it'th hith fault. Fucking thtupid," he muttered, scowling out the window.

"That why you didn't want to crash with him?"

"Yeah. Bathically. I mean, when I get better he'th back to nagging and howling like an idiot, but..." he pushed up his glasses to rub his eyes again. "I think it fuckth with him more than me."

"How so?"

"Like..." and he looked at you this time, still faintly drugged with sleep, but more inquisitive, searching. "Like he dropped the ball. He thinkth that I'm hith rethponthibility or thome thtupid crap, and when I go all weird, he... really freakth out. He thinkth he did thomething wrong. And the whole world ith gonna blame him. And man, fuck that noithe, he'th completely crathy. But I didn't want to be the one to cauthe a heart attack or anything, tho..."

"So you dumped all your shit on me."

"Right," he replied with a laugh, breaking out of the solemn fog. He drank his coffee placidly this time and forgot to look disgusted.

"Well, you're in luck, I'm not a paranoid dumbass," you drawled and pointed at him. "And I'll only blame you."

"That'th all I want," he quipped back with a shrug, and relaxed against the seat, smirking slightly. You let out a laugh through your nose.

"Also, I know what you mean."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. You know the intersection by campus, Queen and Desert Way?"

"Oh, god yeah, it'th fucking inthane."

"Exactly. I got hit by a car a year ago on my way to class. On my bike."

Captor snapped awake completely this time, raising his chin out of his hand, his eyes wide. "Whoa... really?"

"Yeah, wasn't that bad, just broke my leg and got a nice new layer of skin," you explained, downplaying the drama, and flashing him your young right elbow. Everytime you thought back on that clusterfuck, you were never angry or vindictive; you just constantly thought to yourself, _it could have been worse._ "Anyway, I was in the hospital for a few days, checked for brain damage, internal bleeding, and all that fun stuff. Not a single hot nurse in sight."

He snorted and rolled his eyes, but it was half-hearted, and he remained rapt with attention.

"Seriously, it was like fuckin' bunco night in Podunk, Nowhere. Just wrinkles and bad dye-jobs as far as the eye could see," you said and gestured with your arm slowly, before returning to the point to prevent Captor from dumping his water on you in frustration. "Anyway, my entourage came and sat there the whole fuckin' time, even when I was countin' z's. Nearly drove me nuts."

"You mean John?"

"Yep, and the other pieces of our quadfecta, his sister Jade and my sister Rose. I've never seen that bunch of morons so twisted up."

"What do you mean?"

"They tried to be chill and optimistic and failed miserably," you said pointedly and poured yourself a new cup of the actually-decent roast. "They were wringin' their hands like I was their last lottery ticket. You know how Egbert is, so... just imagine that times ten when you get all of us together. Now, imagine that times negative fifty and you have our little General Hospital episode."

He didn't say anything back, just kind of stared back at you, unsure of how to react. He looked torn between understanding and mild horror, clearly not believing your claim that it "wasn't that bad." You gave him a rare, visible smile and he wasn't sure what to do with that either.

"I was fine, trust me. But they all went nuts. Even my bro, who's ugly mug you'll find in the dictionary next to 'unreadable,' sent me like seventy-five texts. It was cute for a while, but then it just got sad. I wanted to kick their asses out until I was better cause they were just making me feel like shit. Seein' them so fucked up was way worse than seein' my leg in a cast," and you gestured lightly at your silent companion. "So yeah, I know how you feel."

He scrutinized you, quietly floored by your story, and he stared hard through your sunglasses. It was the one barrier left after that very revealing conversation, and his eyes flitted about the surface, searching for the slightest hint of a black pupil. You let him look, sitting perfectly still, arms crossed loosely, aware that his search was futile. For now. The bustle of the restaurant faded into a wash of white noise, and your lips twitched up into an encouraging smile. After a moment of deep silence, his confounded face faded into a hesitant, but bright expression, a breathy laugh working its way out. He shook his head and rubbed his arm again, but not nervously this time. Comfortably. When he spoke again, it was quiet, evocative, and keen. An inquisition, making sure that the connection that was just reached wasn't just his imagination. An offering.

"Fuck that noithe?"

"Fuck it up the ass."

And there was that laugh, that nonsensical sound that ran across your skin, like an electric charge. Made your hair stand up on end. _He's gonna give those three a run for their money if he keeps this up. Fucking stupid, adorable dweeb. Testing my patience, you little fucker._

"Here's the 2x2x2, and here is your Create-a-Face pancake. Anything else I can get for you?" the waitress said, seeming to appear out of nowhere, and set the plates in between all of the cups and things on the table.

She would have been hard pressed to figure out anything that you said as Captor doubled over, unable to contain his sudden, side-splitting hysteria at the sight of your order. You felt a couple of stares turn toward your table and you quashed the urge to cackle yourself.

When your companion clamped a hand over his mouth, trying and failing to suppress his sniggering, you looked up passively at the grinning girl and nodded.

"I think we're set."

_____________

  


hey coolkid!!!! hope everything's going awesome as usual and if i know you, it totally is. :D i'm in a hurry so i can't write much, but i just wanted to say that i'm having soooooo much fun!! i got tons of good pictures, and some super cool secret souvenirs, hehe. you better come to the christmas party or i'll totally kick your ass!!! oh, and congrats on getting your new roommate! you should invite him to the party too, the more the merrier! anyway, i gotta run, but... i miss you!!!!!!! :O can't wait to see you guys when i get back. okay bye!!  
xoxo  
jade

_____________

  
\-- tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 9:31 --

TT: I trust John has adhered to your assumption about his secret, prestigous world record and let another cat out of the bag in your general direction pertaining to my relationship status.  
TT: Not that I hadn't dropped approximately three metric tons of hints on you already.  
TT: In any case, you know the deal.  
TT: Do be a dear and bring a handle of rum. A good kind, preferably.  
TT: If you try to be smart and bring "Premium," I will not hesitate to pour the contents of the bottle into your shoes.  
TT: And perhaps bring some lovingly baked goods as well.  
TT: We wouldn't want to break any ice without Strider Style Peanut Brittle, Carameliriously Nutnasty.  
TT: You have plenty of time to prepare, I trust. It is only August.  
TT: Before I forget, it's your turn for coffee.  
TT: See you soon.  
TT: And do expect to tell me the latest developments in Mission Impothible.  
TT: I couldn't possibly live with myself if I didn't pester you with the insatiable need for gossip about your love life.  
TT: I need something to journal about.

\-- tentacleTherapist [TT] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 9:40 --

_____________

  
\-- ghostyTrickster [GT] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 11:20 --

GT: AAAARGH  
GT: STRIIIIDEEEERRRRR  
GT: QUIT STEALING MY ORANGE JUICE, YOU DOUCHECANOE

\-- ghostyTrickster [GT] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 11:21 --


	10. K-I-S-S-I-N-G

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wowza, sorry for the delay folks. This chapter sort of steamrolled me, but I hope it was worth the wait. Oh, and I've changed my username from rungunner to vulturer, but I'm still the same doof you're used to! As always, thanks for reading. Love ya.

  
**  
CHAPTER 9   
**

_K-I-S-S-I-N-G_

____________________________________________________

  


  
A QUICK SUMMARY OF THE FOLLOWING MONTH, BECAUSE NOTHING OF IMPORTANCE HAPPENED WHATSOEVER:

  


_____________

  


The second Friday of the school year was gracefully ushered in not by a friendly offhand greeting, not by an invite for burgers at that old hole-in-the-wall on the local strip, but by a furiously slammed door and an enraged bundle of bones that hurled his backpack into the ground and kicked his sandals off sharply, looking several seconds away from tearing out his hair and smashing a baseball bat into your expensive electronics. Good way to kick off the morning.

"I. Am going. To thcream," the incensed, fiery brunette hissed from his position at the front of the apartment, just barely audible to you from your seat at the dinner table where you were casually jotting down an outline for a history paper topic. You stared over at him evenly and picked your words carefully.

"How about _don't_ do that, we've got nosy neighbors."

"I... I..." he stuttered, lifting up his hands in distress, grasping for respite, shoulders shaking. He sucked in a breathe, ready to shatter some windows, but settled on a snarling, vehement, _"AAARGH."_

Well, at least he had the decency to not unload his vocal frustration at the maximum decibel possible, but the sound still made you raise an eyebrow and pull away from your homework. Fuck that shit anyway, who the hell assigns an eight-pager two weeks into the semester? Sadists, that's who. You watched as he entered the living room slowly, menacingly, a far cry from his usual placid, appraising self.

"What got your panties in a twist?" you asked calmly and leaned your arm over the back of the chair. He squeezed his fists and somehow managed to quell his frustration.

"Group. Project," he fumed through tightly clenched teeth, glowering at you with eyes that begged for understanding. They screamed, _please please please tell me you know how I feel, I need someone to bear my immeasurable fury._

"Shit," you said gravely and his shoulders crumpled along with his energy.

"Fuck. Everything," he moaned and collapsed onto the couch, head laid back on the cushion, staring at the ceiling as if it would offer him a solution to his plight. He suddenly looked ten years older, a weary traveler who's dreams had been crushed by the merciless boot of Team Building Exercises. A truly pitiful sight, indeed. "I've lotht the will to live."

"Normally, I would call you out for being an melodramatic ass, but..." and you nodded slowly in sympathy.

"I thought I graduated middle thchool yearth ago. _Apparently not."_

"Are you done with classes today?"

"No... I've got Diff EQ in a few hourth. Fuck you for not having clatheth on Fridayth, by the way."

"Oh golly, look at how bad I feel, it's not like they give us an empty day to slave away on our semester-long projects or anything," you drawled and rolled your eyes, before waving the bickering off. Banter about trivial things was fine with you, enjoyable even, but you could sense that this conversation was heading down a one-way street into tiresome whining and that was a dish you never had a taste for. There were far better outlets for all-consuming rage than complaining about how much life sucks, and you drily hoped that Skinny would learn what those ways were before he... wait a minute... Bingo. "Guess you'll just have to email your prof about what you'll miss."

"...What?" he retorted intelligently and heaved his head off of the cushion to throw you a dubious expression, his body still moveless and limp. After dog-earing the page of your textbook, you walked over and held out a hand in front of him, which he regarded with another baffled look.

"Up," you said curtly and after a confounded pause, he grasped it and met you half-way as you pulled him off of the couch. "Put on some sneakers and grab your wallet."

"...Why?"

"I wonder?"

"Dude, I can't keep up with you right now," he muttered and pulled off his glasses to rub at his shadowed eyes. "I jutht want to crash."

"That sucks," and you grabbed him by the shoulders, steering him toward the front door. He tried to protest and shrug you off, but as always, it was completely futile and you won out in the end. He scowled up at you from the floor as he tied his shoelaces, unable to form a decent insult. He settled for indecipherable grumbling instead.

"Right, right, keep shaking your scorned fist at the world, I'll be right back," you said and retreated back into your dark room to rummage through your closet for the materials required for your brilliant plan. After a few curses and an unexpected smack in the face by a cheerily colored and rather impudently jutting puppet buttock _(GOD DAMN IT BRO, FUCK YOUR PATERNAL TRANSCONTINENTAL ASS),_ you found the dusty shoebox you had been looking for.

"Okay, off we go," you said as you came back out of the hallway, shaking the dust from your hair. Sollux glared at you, hands shoved in his jean pockets, and didn't even try to ask what was in the shoebox when you passed by him. Good roommate, best learner. But, in the interest of not driving him completely up the wall, you paused.

You rested your hand on the doorknob for a moment, turning to face the disgruntled boy. It took a slow few seconds, but he eventually raised his eyes from the floor and met yours, brows furrowed in question. After more than two months of living together, he had gotten much better at matching your steps and dodging your punches, but you still had a whole box of curve-balls. So far, he had done pretty well and had taken them in stride, willing to overcome his introverted habits and take more chances. You could see the cogs turning, trying to analyze your tricks from every angle, and you gave him a slight nod before saying, "Trust me."

Another curveball, and it hit him square in the chest. He glared briefly before releasing a deep sigh, and he pulled his hands out of his pockets to shoo you off, "All right, all right, go. Jeeth."

"Atta boy," you said with a smirk and swung the door open to greet the bright, September air.

During the entire drive, his eyes took in every turn, street name, and building that you passed by, trying to apply his previous knowledge and anticipate the destination. You felt him glance over at you every few minutes, fluctuating between curiosity and exasperation, and he drummed his fingers on his knee. If that meant that he was already forgetting his earlier plight, then ten points for you and there was certainly more to come.

After two unecessary u-turns and a right-left-left-right maneuver that put you back on exactly the same road you had been on, he backhanded your upper arm and clicked his tongue. With a smirk, you stopped fucking around and after a minute and a necessary left (which got you a suspicious, untrusting side-glare), pulled into a parking lot that served several small businesses. A laundromat, computer repair shop, screenprinting company and, of course, your destination.

"A shooting range?" he said with wide eyes, reading the sign over and over as if to make sure he wasn't hallucinating.

"Never been?" you asked and killed the engine, mentally recording his reaction. He shook his head before glancing over at you.

"No."

"Good, that would've pissed on the fun," you shot back and dug into the shoebox in your lap. You tossed a pair of earmuffs and safety glasses over at him which he fumbled to catch in surprise. He blinked at the gear, then at the shoebox, then back up at you and his expression was deliciously incredulous. You felt it sink into your skin, such wonderful confusion, a curveball un-dodged, and jerked your head at the storefront. "All right, let's go shoot some shit."

"O...kay," he said falteringly, a baffled smile working its way on to his face.

"Welcome, welcome, ah Dave Strider! Long time no see," a friendly, bearded face greeted you as you held open the door for your curious companion, a little bell clinking against the glass. You raised a hand to the man who had spoken and he nodded. "How's the big man? And Little Miss Sunshine?"

"Both ass-deep in foreign affairs."

"I see you've brought a replacement."

"Be gentle, it's his first time."

"Oh, fuck you!"

The man let out a deep laugh and beckoned to Skinny, who at least had the decency to look a little embarrassed. "Come on back and we'll go over the safety procedures and other fun stuff."

Sollux watched the broad-shouldered man walk into the other room and then leaned to hiss at you, "Thith ith crathy."

"No, this is therapeutic."

"Are you kidding me? Shooting a real gun. _Therapeutic."_

"Says the TF2 addict," with a sideways look. "With Heavy as your main."

"Dude, not even comparable."

"You're right," and you flashed him a brief grin. "This is more fun."

"Oh my god, I'm living with a therial killer," he said vacantly and looked off into the quiet store, eyes empty.

You leaned over to whisper a centimeter from his ear, "Hello, Clarice," and he shoved you back with a snort and disappeared into the other room, just a touch flustered. _Ten more points to Hannibal Strider._ You followed his steps and entered a room with a glass counter full of guns next to a large safety glass window that overlooked another chamber.

The room behind the window stretched deep into the building and contained several booths separated by thick panels, each with their own shelf and a pulley system that held the paper targets. The back, sloping wall of the range was peppered with hundreds of holes, rendered swiss cheese from years of use, and little brass casings littered the floor in front of the booths. There was only one older man in the range, reloading a clip, but you had to snap your fingers in front of Sollux's face to get his attention back on the instructions. He seemed to be struggling with the decision to be wary of the unknown process or enthusiastically eager to try. As a low boom finally filled the range, passing through a sound lock and the thick window, he started fidgeting like a restrained child.

However, he could apparently multitask like a pro; when questioned about the procedures he was just told, he answered every question quickly and correctly. The instructor nodded in approval and gestured to the back wall where multiple kinds of posters were tacked up.

"All right, now that that's all set, go ahead and pick your target."

Skinny piped up almost immediately, "The ugly ath guy right there."

"Make it two."

"You got it," the man said and went over to grab the paper. Sollux stared at the guns underneath the glass counter and breathed slowly.

"Thith ith real," he said half to himself and you leaned close to him again.

"Or is this just fantasy?" you started to sing low under your breath and he rolled his eyes dramatically. "Caught in a landsli-"

"No, shut up, don't even thtart."

"Do you feel lucky?"

"Dude, fuck _off."_

"Well, do ya, punk?"

"Exthcuthe me, do you have a sharpie?" he interrupted and the man turned back with the targets, an eyebrow raised in questioning. He fished around in a drawer and handed a black sharpie over.

"Here ya go."

"Thankth," Skinny said and spread out his target on the counter, watched curiously by you and the instructor. He started scribbling on the poster, attempting unsuccessfully to hide it from you, and the other man laughed boisterously as it became clear what the brunette was doing. You shook your head slowly, _oh that little shit is just asking for it,_ and when his work was finished, you snatched the sharpie out of his hand and went to work on your own target.

When you looked back at the brunette, you were pleased to note that he seemed to be back to his normal, snippy little self, a self-satisfied look pulling so wonderfully at his eyes and mouth. The challenge was aired and the bearded shopkeeper shook his head in amusement, waving you away from the counter.

"Off you go, I'll have your pistols out in a moment," he said and walked off.

"Those should fit over your nerdy-ass specs," you said gesturing at the safety glasses in Skinny's hand and he rolled his eyes before putting them on. They were Bro's old pair and looked just big enough to fit, though you had to stifle a laugh at the sight. Sollux pinned you with a stare and you raised an eyebrow.

"Problem, nerd?"

"What about you, douche?"

"Ah, right," you said and waggled your eyebrows once before spinning away from him to replace your trusty shades with a pair of tinted safety glasses which just barely concealed your irises. When you turned back to face Sollux, he threw up his hands and let out a heavy, exasperated breath.

"Oh, bullshit!"

"Too easy, Skinny. Gimme some credit," you chided and snapped the earmuffs unceremoniously on Skinny's head, _no contest kid, I'm racking up points like a starlet's bubblegum on eBay,_ and secured your own as he spluttered. You grabbed the cardboard-backed targets and nodded to the range.

"Ready?" you said and he furrowed his brows at the unfamiliar sound. You remembered the first time Bro brought you here; it was intimidating, and the main thing you remembered was how the world was dampened through the muffs, but not silent. Skinny looked over as the instructor walked over with a metal case and a grin, and he nodded back at you with a little smile of his own.

"Excellent."

_____________

  
_____________

  


The second you passed through the first door of the sound lock, Sollux started to look very unsure about his decision to follow you. Another boom sounded through the other door and he flinched a little, pausing in his steps. He jumped forward again before the instructor bumped into him, doing some quick cover-up, but you clapped a hand on his shoulder anyway and shook your head.

"Don't worry," you assured loudly and he gave you a hard stare. "You get used to it."

He nodded and you pushed through to the range, holding the door open for Sollux and the instructor. The other man in the range looked over and gave a short, friendly nod which you returned as you walked to the other end of the room, kicking aside stray brass casings. The instructor took two pistols and a few boxes of ammo out of the metal case and placed them on one of the shelves. He gave Skinny an encouraging grin and a robust, "Good luck," before leaving you to teach. He stopped to chat with the other man for a moment and you turned back to the brunette.

"All right, so first thing you gotta do," you started and held out your hands, palms turned upward, and relaxed your shoulders. "Close your eyes."

You heard a muffled snort through the thick muffs and you dramatically exhaled.

"Open up your soul to the greater gods of blowing shit up."

"Goddamnit, Thtrider."

"Use the Force, Neo. You're the chosen one."

"That ith not eve-"

 _BOOM._

"Ffffuck," Skinny spluttered after you both jerked in surprise and he lowered his hands from his earmuffs, opening his eyes, looking up at you. Surprise colored his face for approximately two seconds before he snorted out a laugh and covered his mouth. Another shot smashed the air, another flinch, and another laugh. You almost felt annoyed at losing face for a second, except you kind of didn't care. At all. "Okay, Zthen Mathter, what nextht?"

"Then I chokehold you and take your chocolate milk, nerd," you deadpanned and he rolled his eyes, flipping you a quick bird. You ejected the magazine from one of the pistols and he moved forward to watch. _"Then_ you respect your goddamn elders. Or don't. My truck's been needin' a good wax."

"Your truck'th an ugly piethe of shit, remember?"

"'Ey. One more snip and I'll take your lunch money too. This is a magazine."

Another shot resonated throughout the range and Sollux still flinched, but not as badly. Little steps. One at a time.

"This is where the bullets go," you continued. He shot you a look.

"I fucking hate you."

"Whoa there, hotshot, you gotta learn how to drive before you do a cannonball run."

"That'th a 9mm themi-automatic pithtol," he rattled of smugly and held his head a bit higher, only twitching an eye as the other man fired another resonating shot. "I can drive."

You made a show of looking him up and down and thumbed a few rounds into the magazine, appraising the self-satisfied boy. He held his stare. "But can you shoot?"

"Sure."

"All right, grasshopper," and you set the magazine down and grabbed the target with sharpied-shades, clipping it to the line and holding the switch to send it about halfway down the range. Skinny's eyes flickered across your hands as you tipped in a few more bullets and slid the magazine in with a little click. Without another word, you flicked off the safety, cocked the hammer back, and aimed and fired, punching a hole through an inked shoulder. Out of your periphery, Skinny lost his cool and his body jumped sharply, and you set the gun down on the shelf before turning to flash him a smirk. "Your turn."

He swapped places with you and you leaned against the partition, looking down at his clenched fists resting on the felted shelf.

"Relax," you assured, calming, but still loud enough to hear through the muffs. He glanced over at your tinted safety glasses and then back down at the pistol. You put your hands in your pockets, trying to get him to loosen up by association. "Put one foot behind the other, shoulder length apart. Don't lock your knees. That gun's loud and it kicks a bit, but keep your cool. It's harmless if you handle it right."

He nodded.

"The empty casings will pop out the side," you continued, your voice even and straight this time, and his hands slowly unfurled, scratching at the felt. "They'll be hot and they might bounce off the wall and hit you, might even stick, but for god's sake do not fuckin' panic. Just be a man, clench your teeth, and put the gun down. It'll hurt like a bitch for a few seconds, but it's not a big deal. You'll live."

"Okay."

"Take your time. Finger off the trigger until you're Dirty Harry and not a second before."

"Okay," he said with a smile and reached down to pick up the pistol slowly, holding it like a dying butterfly until his arms understood the weight. His muscles revealed a tiny twitch as the other man continued firing off successive shots, a second in between each bang.

"Right hand firm around the grip, pointer off the trigger. Wrap your left hand around your fingers," you spoke like a calm, abbreviated manual and Skinny seemed to fall into a stance. He was still a little rigid, but eager. "Pick your favorite body part. Line the front sight up with the notch. Breathe."

He breathed.

"Breathe again."

"I got it, man."

"Bro, do not underestimate your lungs."

"Yeah. I got it."

"You feelin' lucky?"

"Yeah."

"Finger on the trigger. Aim. Breathe," you said and then waited until the other man paused to load a new round. Skinny breathed and his hands trembled faintly. "Shoot."

He squeezed his fingers and flinched at the sudden, heavy event — he may have been getting used to the sound, but not the feeling of it coming from his own hands — and placed the gun back down slowly. His eyes were wide and you leaned over to peer at the damage.

"Welp, you might have hit the ceiling. Hard to tell with all of those other holes."

"Shut up," he said, attempting to sound pissed, but it was difficult to sound sharp through that spreading grin.

"Or maybe you nailed the old guy's target. You should go ask him."

"Fuck. You," and his smile was unreal. You drank it in like clear rain but kept a hold on your fucking poker face because, _goddamnit, a shooting range was not the place to reveal your inner crush-struck middle schooler, no matter how difficult this dumbass, messy-haired, bony-armed, crotch-kickingly beautiful moron was making it._

"Go nuts. Don't rapid fire though, save that shit for a showdown," you drawled and slipped over to your own booth, clipping up the spectacled target, sending it two-thirds down the range. You felt Skinny's eyes on you, could practically smell his exhilaration. Except that was a stupid thought. Kind of creepy of you, really. It was probably just the gunpowder.

"The nextht shot ith going right through your thtupid shadeth," Skinny challenged and pointed at his own eye, grinning mischievously. You turned and surveyed him.

"Is that a challenge I hear, Skinny the Kid?"

"The one with the motht holeth in him buyth lunch."

"You're fuckin' dead, cowboy."

It turned out that after Sollux got over his initial uncertainty, he was a damn good shot. After blowing through a box of ammo, he moved his target back to where yours was, deciding that he didn't like the idea of winning just because his target was closer. You had paused to watch him, guiding him verbally through the steps of loading the gun by himself, and he hit the target almost every time. You still landed more holes through the illustrated body, but you had years of experience and two regular, tough competitors to match. He had less than an hour of practice and it was as if he'd been shooting for months.

"You play too much Xbox," you grumbled at him as you held open the door. He clutched the rolled up targets in hone hand and, with the earmuffs around his neck and the safety glasses perched on his head, he looked like a regular. He turned to flash you a grin and walked backwards, a bit of a bounce in his step.

"I grew up on GoldenEye, dude. That'th gotta count for thomething."

"I shoulda known," you returned, following him slowly. The air was a little more crisp and the sky was a clear, near-autumn blue, puffy white clouds drifting leisurely and low to the ground. "So, what's the verdict?"

"Hmm?" he hummed lightly, shuffling across the parking lot to your truck.

"The real thing. Better than a joystick?"

"No way," he said with a toothy smile and you scoffed. "I owned a piethe of paper, not hordeth of thombieth or alienth."

"Spoiled brat."

"Didn't thay it wathn't worth it."

You didn't have much to say to that. A touch of a smile tugged at your mouth and Captor came to a stop near your truck, looking thoughtful.

"Why can't more people be like you?"

"Pretty sure the universe couldn't handle more than one Dave Strider."

"Oh, that'th right, it would implode on itthelf with the weight of too much groove. I forgot," he retorted and rolled his eyes.

"Did you seriously just use 'groove' in a real sentence? A sentence referring to me?"

"Definitely. You're the groovietht. The Dithco Queen. And shut up, you know what I meant."

You shrugged, hands in your pockets, and he leaned back against the passenger door, holding the targets protectively. As if he didn't want to bend them. Which was odd, to say the least; they were already shot to shit. Yeah. Odd.

"But... I'm theriouth, though," he said and rubbed his arm. "You're jutht... chill. I dunno."

"Lay it on me, bro," you said evenly and leaned your weight on one leg. "I'm down for some ego-stoking."

"Thee, like that," he said with a smirk. "I know you're taking the pith out of me, exthept... you're not. And I wath tho fucking mad thith morning, but now... I mean, I'm gonna end up doing all the work ath usual becauthe everyone elthe in my major ith completely fucking utheleth, but... I don't even care anymore."

"Yeah?" you offered and he shook his head slowly.

"I jutht got to blow the fuck out of thomething with a _real gun._ Who _doeth_ that?"

"You'd be surprised."

"Well, _I've_ never met anyone who doeth, and..." he paused and looked directly at your shoes, his eyes crinkling a bit in thought. "It wath awethome."

"That was the point."

"Yeah," he said, half to himself. "Yeah. I know. Thankth."

"Sure."

"No, really. For everything."

"Okay, dude."

"I'm theriouth."

"All right, Captor, you can get off my dick already, I get it."

"Good," he shot back with a grin and you walked around to the driver's side before you gave anything away. Not that he could see anything except your mouth and your eyebrows, but then again, you weren't even sure if you could hide behind _them._ He had gotten better at reading you and that was a bit of a red flag, sort of like _whoa there, he's toeing the line between friend and "You can't hide from me Strider, I know your act,"_ which was getting a bit too close for comfort. You definitely were not comfortable with finally having somebody all up in your grill in all the right ways. Not. At. All. Your grill was closed for business. No hot dogs welcome. None.

Nope.

 _Fuck._

The heated air inside the truck prickled at your skin and you rolled the window down, discretely eyeing Captor as he did the same. The gentle air was not enough. You definitely needed to get moving. Get some current in this oven. Fuck fuck fuck.

The breeze cooled you down as you pulled out of the parking lot, right hand curled around the shift knob.

It heated right back up again when fingertips brushed your knuckles.

It may as well have been the center of a bonfire as you linked your fingers with his.

It was absolutely the furthest thing from cool when you both let go to allow you to shift gears and then curled right back together again afterward. It had gone so far down into uncool that it was about to punch through the ironic threshold right into Perfectly Acceptable and you didn't quite know what to do with that. Sollux didn't look at you. The rolled up targets were placed safely in between the passenger seat and the door and he rested his mouth against his palm, staring out the window just so that you could barely see the glint of a glass lens. You could just hear that quiet, laughing-through-the-nose thing that he did when you broke apart, shifted, and then came back together.

This was so middle school. Holding hands for the first time, getting butterflies. Driving your date home in your second-hand truck. This was Grade-A Degrassi material, this was all of Vantas's PG rated romcoms rolled into one, this was a lined-paper note with gel pen writing that spelled, _"Do you like me? Circle yes or no."_

You circled yes. You circled yes a dozen times, scribbled _"fuck"_ in front of it and added _"yes does not even begin to describe how fucking bad I've got it for you"_ and you dotted your i's with goddamn hearts.

You suddenly found yourself in your usual parking spot. You distantly remembered the lunch deal that had been established, but it didn't really matter. He could buy you lunch another day. Right now, you were kind of hungry for something else. Something less "basic survival needs." Something more "basic living needs."

He turned to look at you and his eyes twitched as they met your shades. They flickered about hesitantly, trying to get information from anything, anything else because you had him at a disadvantage. Except, you didn't really. He didn't know quite yet, but the power dynamic was pretty damn mutual. With eyes and a nose and hair and lips like that? You had no advantage. None whatsoever. Not when he still had those earmuffs around his neck and the safety glasses nestled in his hair.

You moved forward. He moved forward. You both met halfway and your frames clinked against his and his lips were soft. Pepperminty. The fucking kid used Burt's Bees.

There was no hope left for you.

And hopelessness never tasted so good.

_____________

Your name was Sollux Captor and you... you...

Holy shit.

 _Holy shit._

 _Fuck._

 _Yes._

_____________

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] at 12:31 --

TG: bang bang

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] at 12:31 --


	11. Will You Look at This Mess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to examine the snippets while I tidy.

  
**  
CHAPTER 10   
**   


_Will You Look at This Mess_

____________________________________________________

  


  
A RELATIONSHIP IS ESTABLISHED. THE TERMS, UNDERSTOOD.   


"Just so we're clear, this whole thing is on lockdown."

"Duh."

"Like, Top Level FBI Clearance, the Weapons of Mass Destruction are in our pants level."

"Yeah, I _know."_

"We're puttin' it under five levels of encryption and the only one who understands is some grizzled Navajo codetalker dude with a broken radio. Operation Whiskey Tango Foxtrot is all up in this bitch."

"Thtrider, I've been friendth with KK for yearth. Do you honethtly think I'm gonna drop the bomb on him tho thoon? I may hate mythelf thometimeth, but I don't have a fucking death wish."

"Okay, good. Oh, but I did tell my sister."

"Oh _great,_ tho it'th _you_ that hath a death wish. Thankth for the headth up. Dick."

"No, no, it's cool. She's the codetalker, our secret mission's safe with her."

"...Can't wait to meet her."

"It'll be fine, she's a peach."

"A peach."

"...That's fermented for a few years."

"Uh..."

"...And has an black, haunted, Giger pit okay look, the point is, she's got zipper lips and a fetish for having blackmail on me, so she's not gonna blow our cover. Unless we want her to, I guess."

"I sure hope tho..."

"We're fine."

"Ehehe, kay."

"Yeah."

"Tho, like... are we officially dating, then?"

"I was under the impression that nervous hand-holding and a few dainty kisses means we're about six-months away from a committed marriage."

"Oh _shit,_ I forgot about that rule..."

"S'okay. I've got Fucking Up Your Life For Dummies memorized."

"I knew I could count on you. Tho, that meanth we are?"

"You're kiddin'."

"For real, I jutht need to know if it'th okay to call you my girlfriend. I mean, I don't know how you are about that thtuff."

"..."

"Well? _Are_ you?"

"Of course I'm your fuckin' girlfriend. I'm also the last thing you'll ever see, little shit."

"Pffahaha!"

_____________

  


  
THE CURT MESSAGE IS RECEIVED. A SISTER, PLEASED.   


\-- tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 16:20 --

TT: I offer you my congratulations, as well as some condolences.  
TT: Knowing that my dear, coveted brother is now shackled to a long-term commitment makes my heart go out to the hundreds of young singles that will surely weep when they discover their dreams have been so thoroughly crushed.  
TT: That being said, I do look forward to seeing him.  
TT: It's not every day that someone meets your expectations.

\-- tentacleTherapist [TT] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 16:22 --

_____________

  


  
A FIRST DATE IS ATTEMPTED. A DISASTER, AVOIDED.   


"Dude, your irony thing fucking blowth mathive cock and I kind of really hate you right now."

"You know what, you are absolutely right. This is the shittiest thing I have ever seen and I sat through Sex and the City 2," you replied, grimacing at the screen in disgust.

"Theriouthly. Wait... you _what!?"_

"Nothin', let's get out of here, split a six pack, and never speak of this moment again."

"Deal."

_____________

  


  
A DATING CLICHE IS EXPLORED. A TRIUMPH, ACHIEVED.   


"So, do you feel like the luckiest girl in the world or whmmph... Okay. Yeah, okay, so now dozens of small children are probably lookin' up all glittery-eyed at their parents askin', 'mommy, why are those two boys hugging each other with their faces?' Good work."

"We're at the top of the ferrith wheel, dumbfuck. And we're thtopped," Skinny said with a knowing grin and gestured out at the calm landscape, the sounds of the theme park subdued this high up.

"Oh. Huh. Good poinmmmph."

_____________

  


  
THE SOUND DESIGN STUDENT DOES HOMEWORK. HIS BOYFRIEND, CONFUSED.   


"Holy shit, what fuck are you doing!?" Sollux spluttered as he walked into the apartment during one of your sound effect recording sessions.

"Did you know smashin' lettuce makes a perfect bone-crunch?"

"Uh..." he replied and stared at your feet. Bits of iceberg lettuce were scattered across the plastic covered floor and your equipment setup made the living room impassable. You tilted your head toward Sollux and he looked back up at you, thoroughly dumbfounded.

"...That a no?"

_____________

  


  
THE MORE-THAN-ROOMMATES BOTH GET SICK. NECESSARY COMFORT, GIVEN.   


"Fuck coldth. Sure, go to clath even though you're ditheathed and then thneeze on the door handle. Oh congratth, now _everyone'th_ infected," a nasally voice groaned, followed by a sniff, a mucusy cough, and a frustrated sigh. You sniffled back in agreement and dumped the armful of blankets on the couch.

"C'mere," you commanded and he joined you in the pile of pillows, blankets, and tissue boxes, stepping over the wrapped Saltines and vanilla wafer cookies that were placed on the floor in front of the sofa. As you wrapped a hideous quilt around his shoulders and yours, he leaned against you and sniffed as angrily as he could. Which, after burrowing in the cushy fortress, wasn't all that vicious.

All of the lights in the apartment were turned off except for the bluish glow from the TV. You pressed play and settled back into the cushions, drowsily focused on the feverish heat pressed up against you, trapped beneath layers of protection. Twenty minutes later, and you both fell asleep to the quiet sounds of The Godfather.

_____________

  


  
THE CLOSE FRIENDS CONVERSE. A CONFESSION, UNSAID.   


\-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] began pestering twinArmageddons [TA] at 22:49 --

CG: OKAY, I GIVE UP.  
CG: I NEED YOUR HELP.  
TA: 2ure thiing, kk, what'2 up?  
CG: BULLSHIT. THAT'S WHAT.  
CG: JUST  
CG: LOOK OVER MY CODE, WOULD YOU?  
CG: AND DON'T SAY A FUCKING WORD ABOUT HOW SIMPLE IT IS.  
CG: I'M A TERRIBLE PROGRAMMER, WE GET IT, HA HA HA.  
CG: JUST  
CG: UGH  
CG: JUST HELP.  
TA: eheheh, all riight.  
TA: 2end me the fiile and ii'll look over iit iin a biit.  
CG: THANKS.  
TA: no problem.  
\-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] sent twinArmageddons [TA] the file "CANCEROUSHORSESHIT.exe" --  
CG: OKAY, TALK TO YOU LATER.  
TA: waiit kk, hold on.  
CG: YEAH?  
TA: uh...  
CG: OUT WITH IT.  
TA: well...  
TA: shiit.  
TA: no, nevermiind.  
TA: are you goiing two the chrii2tma2 party thiing?  
CG: I AM BEING FORCED BY A PAIR OF OBNOXIOUS TOOTHY IDIOTS TO ATTEND, YES.  
CG: ARE YOU?  
TA: yeah, ii thiink 2o.  
TA: 2triider 2aiid jade want2 two meet me.  
CG: SOUNDS ABOUT RIGHT.  
CG: IT'S HARD TO SAY NO TO HER.  
CG: IMPOSSIBLE, ACTUALLY.  
TA: ii2 2he niice?  
CG: YEAH.  
CG: YEAH, SHE'S ALL RIGHT.  
CG: COMPLETELY APESHIT CRAZY, BUT WHO IN THIS FUCKED UP CIRCLE OF FRIENDS ISN'T.  
TA: eheheh agreed.  
CG: YEAH.  
CG: THAT ALL?  
TA: yeah.  
TA: okay, ii'll get back two you after my computer explode2 from your 2hiitty viiru2.  
TA: brb.  
CG: SHOVE IT.

\-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] ceased pestering twinArmageddons [TA] at 23:12 --

_____________

  


  
A BIKE RIDE IS PROPOSED. THEIR HISTORY, SHARED.   


The air was brisk and perfect against your skin and the sun's light, when it peeked through the brilliant clouds every so often, was the lightest touch of warmth. The bumpy asphalt felt good, felt _right_ underneath the tires of your road bike and Sollux rolled up next to you silently, staring out at the sky with hand-shaded eyes.

"So?"

"Fuck yeah."

"Let's roll."

You took off, winding through the parked cars and onto the main road, and Sollux followed. The turns came easy to you as you followed the path you took every day, looking around at the cars and the streetlights. Intersections were obstacles in your way and you tapped your foot impatiently when stopped by a red light. Sollux pounded the crosswalk button no less than ten times and when the light turned green, pushed off hard and fast, aggressively ahead of you this time. You followed with a laugh, close on his heels like a starving dog.

He was fast. Careless almost, whipping through side streets as if he could see through the buildings to a marked track visible only to him. You knew some of the area, but not well and you felt an electric thrill at being wildly tossed around, a competition unspoken between both of you. He led the race, tried to throw you off, but you kept up and soon enough, the world was a blur. He pedaled strongly and turned, left and right and right and left, until he pulled up onto a sidewalk, over some dirt, and onto a tiny street that winded and curved through an old neighborhood. You had no idea where you were and it felt amazing.

You felt loose and easy. Not even Egbert went on bike rides with you. It was something that you had done alone for as long as you could remember, pedaling to class, pushing against the morning wind in autumn, fixing flats on weekend rides. But now... now Sollux was working his way into your life even further. He was getting tangled, his strings were mixing with yours, and it was unreal. So easy. It was _terrifying_ how easy it was. Especially now. Especially when he pulled you along without looking back because he knew you were still behind him.

The air smelled clean and wet and wind whipped at your shirt, taunting you to stay balanced, and a low rumble of thunder vibrated through the ground. The trees rustled threateningly and Sollux slowed a bit to survey the weather. You pulled up alongside him and looked around.

"Shit," he said under his breath and glanced over at you. You both gained a few more meters and then droplets started to hit your arms and hair.

"Incoming," you said shortly and Sollux sped ahead with a newfound purpose, whipping his head around to look at the street names. A flash of lightning glinted faintly in the daylight and he called over his shoulder.

"Thith way!"

He zipped down the streets, you followed close and thunder cracked the seal of the storm and unleashed a sparkling deluge. You could have sworn Sollux shouted something else back to you but it was inaudible over the sudden rush. The water was cold, heavy, and fantastic.

At the end of street hundreds of feet away, you saw a baseball field which Sollux aimed a straight shot toward. By the time he had reached the sheltered dugout, water streamed along the non-guttered roads, splashing underneath your tires. When you pulled into the field, Sollux was laughing and shaking his drenched hair.

"Holy shit," he laughed and rested his bike up against the chain-link fence, turning to face you as you did the same. You wiped droplets off of your shades and made a twirling motion with your hand at the wet brunette.

"Your ass is covered in dirt," and you knew yours was the same. Neither of your bikes had covers for the back wheels and the grooved tires had kicked up filthy water onto your backs. Sollux attempted to twist and look at the damage and choked out a laugh when you walked over to wipe the mess off of his shirt.

"Ugh, groth," he said and wiped his glasses as you swept at his back. "Too late dude, we're fubar."

"Yeah."

The rain filled the air like a curtain and the clouds drifted in and out of the sun's path, creating a cacophony of light and shade that drenched every surface. Puddles accumulated rapidly in the streets and you didn't remember liking rain this much. Ever. It was one of those things that usually annoyed you, inconvenienced you, but this time... it felt a little different.

You shook your head and walked back out into the downpour toward the grassy field. You were already soaked through to your marrow and you didn't care about anything at the moment. Life just felt _right._

Sollux jogged back up to you with a chuckle and stomped at the squelching grass, following you to the center of the field where you sat down without a word, kicking off your waterlogged sneakers, leaning back against locked arms. He flopped down on his back next to you and closed his eyes, stretching out his arms underneath the cold rain. This time, you didn't try to conceal your stare. You straight up looked right at him, at the cotton clinging to his ribs, at the water trickling across his face and into his hair. This time, you were open. And this time, he knew you were looking.

"Feelth good."

"Yeah."

More thunder rolled deeply throughout the city and you stared up into the sky.

"I don't do this kind of thing," you said, loud enough to carry through the rain, but calm enough to sound important. Sollux glanced at you briefly before turning his face back to the rain.

"Mmm."

"I've never done this kind of thing. I mean, what the fuck."

"Have you dated anyone elthe before?"

"Sort of. Not really. Not if dating is _this_ kind of bullshit."

"Who?"

"Random girls. Nobody important. The one girl who was important... well, I never dated her."

"Am I your firtht guy?"

"That I've dated? Yeah," you explained and let out a short, wry laugh. "Had my eye on? No."

"No way."

"Guess that means I'm _your_ first guy."

"Yeah."

"That's cool. How 'bout you? Any babes that melted your frozen nerd heart?"

"Two," he replied with a small smile. "One wath my friend in middle thchool. She wath crathy, alwayth dragged me to dig for dinothaur boneth and thtuff."

"Cute."

"Inthanely," he breathed and pulled off his glasses, placing an arm over his eyes to block the water. "We were jutht friendth though. Dating in name only. Which wath fun for a while."

"And the second?"

"A friend in high thchool. Dating in way more than name only."

"Mmm," you hummed and remained silent. Sollux took a deep breath.

"She wath perfect," he started and let out a hollow laugh. "Tho... tho fucking _exthited_ about everything, she wath unthtoppable. Nothing got her down. I don't even know what she thaw in me."

"What happened?"

"Life."

"Specifically?"

"She moved on. I moved away."

"Huh, weird," you said flatly and even with the thunder rumbling deep in the sky, the rain was a little bit softer. "I thought high school things were supposed to last forever."

"Go drown in an ocean of dickth," he spat, but the corner of his mouth twitched just enough to notice.

"Nah," you said and nudged your wrist against his elbow. A breath rushed out of his nose and his chest rose and fell with his breathing. "So, where do I fit in?"

"You're definitely the prettietht."

You laughed and turned your face up to the sky. The clouds looked endless; an autumn storm that would last for hours. This was right.

"I bet."

_____________

  


  
WINTER SETTLES IN. TWO BOYS, ENTWINED.   


"It might be a cognitive thing. You _can_ make the sound, but your brain doesn't let you."

"And knowing that helpth me how?"

"You just have to tell your brain to fuck off."

"Right. Cauthe I definitely know exthactly how to do that," he muttered sardonically and breathed onto his frozen hands. You were both sitting on a bench tucked in a deserted corner of campus, and he looked like he was questioning his very existence in the midst of such cold weather. He folded his arms and looked over at you. "Bethideth, I've done that shit before, it doethn't thtick."

"Just listen to me. And try it. Sssssss."

"Ttthhhhh..."

"Back your tongue up. Right around here," and then you kissed him, touching your tongue to his alveolar ridge, and he tensed up in surprise. When you pulled back, he flushed bright red and buried his face in his hands.

"Oh my god, I can't _believe_ you... That wath _tho corny..."_

"Try it. Try sayin' my last name," you said with a triumphant smirk. When he came out from his shelter, he was still pink from delicious embarrassment. He attempted to glare darkly at you, but the edge was lost as his mouth pulled up at the sides. You brushed his jawbone with your fingertips. "Sssssss."

"Sssscumbag."

"See, there?" and your grin was enormous. "That was perfect."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Made a slight edit to the pesterlog between Sollux and Karkat. Thanks so much mjgh5000 for the excellent suggestion!!


	12. Something

  
**  
CHAPTER 11   
**   


_Something_

  


____________________________________________________

  


When winter break finally came after two weeks of abject terror, Casa De Strider was the very picture of disaster. Empty pizza boxes were stacked as high as the kitchen trash bin and a palace could have been built out of the empty Monster cans that sat on nearly every horizontal surface. The floor was a minefield of textbooks and printed lecture slides, forming islands of subjects that had accumulated the day before their respective exams. The dishwasher was packed, the laundry was fit to burst, and you came home from your last final to find Sollux standing on the only patch of bare carpet in his room, looking around in confusion.

"Hey, have you theen my phone?" he asked, rooted in place for fear of tripping on the clusterfuck that was his floor. You tapped to his number on your iphone and the sounds of Dr. Wily Stage Theme chimed from somewhere in the living room. As he grabbed your hand to keep from face-planting, he chuckled and hopped over a pile of junk, turning his head to locate the source of the sound. He found it between the couch cushions underneath a pile of blankets two feet high and when he pulled it out, he turned to you with a sheepish grin.

"Gueth we should tidy up, huh?"

"I just stormed the beach of Finance for two fuckin' hours. I am not playin' maid until I get thoroughly hammered, tongue-fuck your face into the sofa, and then nurse a hangover that had _better_ last a whole day or else it means I need to back that shit up and start over."

"I thought you'd never athk."

The drinks were many, the makeouts were sloppy, and the two hangovers that followed were certainly nothing to shake a bottle of Advil at. You and Sollux lay curled on the couch the entire following day drinking Snapple, eating crackers, and marathoning the mini-series and half of the first season of Battlestar Galactica until you passed right back out again, arms and legs tangled in the most absurd and comfortable way. Even with a splitting brain, you felt achingly content with your shades still perched on your nose (which was starting to drive Sollux completely insane, since every attempt he made at removing them ended with him in a headlock, or a nice long study of your eyelids). You probably wouldn't have cared by this point, except he got so flustered about it, which made you grow ever more amused and the game continued. So far, winter break at home was a resounding victory, two votes cast in favor of _hell yes._ The jury has reached a verdict. Court is adjourned.

Even cleaning up the pigsty of a condominium wasn't that bad; you blasted music as loud as you dared and Sollux nodded along, spiking empty cans in the trash bags that you held out. Every once in a while, the heavy beat inspired him and he pulled you away from cleaning the mess in the hallway to distract you with things that made you want to forget about household chores for good. To be fair, you interrupted him just as frequently. Needless to say, it took a while to get the whole place clean but, when it was, you both felt triumphant and went out for drinks in celebration. The day ended with a midnight ice cream run, both of you savoring the looks of confusion that followed you all the way down the strip. Sure, it probably looked strange — two college-aged guys getting ice cream together smack in the middle of a blistering December — but neither of you gave any amount of fucks, and you held hands like idiots the whole way home.

A few days passed in blissful laziness full of video games, winter beers, and kung-fu movie nights and soon enough, the festive gathering of champions loomed close. Both of you were itching to see your friends again after being separated by oceans of schoolwork and, in one case, actual oceans, but another event lurked just beneath the surface. If you wanted to, you could willfully ignore it, but... in the quieter moments, it hung like a cloud in the heated air. You were going to have to pull back the curtain and pray that the audience wasn't packing rotten tomatoes.

"We have to."

"I know, but..."

"We don't have a choice," you said firmly and pointed at Sollux with your fork. He stared back at you with furrowed brows, his plate of fried rice forgotten. "It'll be fine, Rose and her girl have got our backs."

"You sure?"

"Absolutely."

"Aaargh," he groaned and rubbed his face roughly. "Shit."

"Don't worry, we'll fill 'em with eggnog first. I'll slip the tender a twenty to give it an extra punch."

Sollux laughed through his nose and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Probably won't make a differenthe... but all right. Yeah. We'll do it."

And with a pounding of the fists, it was sworn.

_____________

  


The weight of the treaty didn't really sink in fully until you were both standing in front of Rose's apartment door, second floor up, surrounded by the bony limbs of trees and brown veins of frozen ivy that crept along the walls of the building. The complex was a veritable forest, illuminated with a collective swarm of multicolored lights that were wrapped around every trunk, hung from every branch, and twisted around every railing. The cheery colors helped you calm down some... But not much.

You ran leather-gloved fingers through the hair on the back of Sollux's head and he shifted the heavy bags in his hands. You tightened the grip on the bag in yours. That helped you calm down a little bit more. _Still not enough, though._

"We're fine."

"No we're not," he grumbled back, but his mouth was turned up a bit at the corner. He stared at the ground and all you wanted to do was kiss him stupid. You bonked your forehead against his skull and murmured into his ear.

"Eh, who gives a shit."

"That'th better."

"We can give 'em hell if we need to."

"All nine thircleth?"

"Plus an extra kick in the junk, signed _Get Over It or Get Out."_

"Ehehe," and that little laugh nearly made you pull him back to your truck, speed home, and keep him locked up safe from harm until you both turned to dust.

"Let's fuck shit up," you said instead and pushed the doorbell. Deep breath. Door open. Oh fuck. Purple sweater.

"Dave," your savior said and draped her arms around your neck briefly before turning those knockout eyes onto your companion. "And friend. Get inside this instant, and do calm your frantic and surely shivering nerves. Our dark-haired dears are out on a mission. They won't be back for a little while, for various reasons. One being that there are introductions to be made and I am loathe to throw you out of the frying pan first thing. I am nothing if not a good host."

And exhale.

"Oh thank fuck," Sollux breathed and Rose's eyes glinted knowingly. You shook your head slowly and nudged Sollux ahead, following him with a meaningful nod toward your sister, which was returned with a sly raising of those elegant brows. She hinted, _you owe me._ You returned, _you have no idea._

"Can I take your coats?" a velvety, yet enunciative voice drifted from within and you and Sollux both looked up and stopped in your tracks. You could practically feel Rose gloating silently behind you. _With good fucking reason. Holy bombshell, Batman._

"Careful, Kanaya, these two are likely prone to sudden myocardial infarctions. We wouldn't want to have to pay the ferryman before we've had our fun."

"Kanaya," Sollux parroted dumbly and toed his shoes off. It took a couple of tries.

"You must be Sollux," the chocolate-haired, willowy girl replied with a gentle, modest smile. He just stared as he set the bags down and moved to take off his jacket, but caught himself and nodded before it got too awkward. Caught himself in a sleeve too. The girl then turned to you and her eyebrows raised questioningly. "And Dave?"

"Can't remember," you said and a hand smacked the back of your head, followed by a flutter of lilac and blonde that passed by.

"Look sharp," the owner said and put her hand on Sollux's shoulder. He looked torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to disappear. Rose's smile was devious. "Come, let's see what gifts you've brought us."

As they vanished into the kitchen, your shoulders shook with a quiet chuckle and Kanaya walked over to greet you properly, her long skirt brushing lightly against the wooden floor.

"It's nice to finally meet you," she said as you kicked off your shoes by the door and you turned back with a slow, respectful nod.

"Likewise. For a while there, I thought you were a myth."

"I'm not surprised. Rose gets a rather worrisome amount of pleasure from puzzling you."

"That'd be her."

"To be honest, she gave me similar doubts about your existence."

"The knife shanks both ways," you replied with a brief shrug and then tipped your head toward her. "Heard you make a mean glass of nog."

"I guess that depends on what ingredients I have at my disposal," she countered and shifted her weight to one leg. You handed her the heavy bottle of Angostura 1824 and as she read the label with widening eyes, you shrugged off your coat with a chuckle.

"Oh," she said, startled, and looked up, clutching the glass tightly. "How much do we owe you?"

"Nope. Special occasion."

For a second she stared at you with astonished green eyes, but then a smile lit up her face and she laughed musically, tilting her head in scrutiny. "Apparently."

"Just pinky-swear that you'll make Tweedledee and Tweedledumbfuck's poison lethal."

"That I can do," she said lightly and held out her pinky. You hooked yours around it and sealed the swear, and an amused voice sounded from the kitchen.

"You cheated," it said and you glanced over to see Rose holding up a tin of store-bought peanut brittle, Sollux standing behind her with his hands in his pockets and a grin on his face. Things already started to feel easier; good company seemed to do you wonders.

"I was busy," you answered suggestively and Rose cocked an eyebrow. Sollux rolled his eyes and walked back to unload the rest of the food. "'Sides, that's more up Bro's alley. I never had a knack for baking."

"I'll concede this once, but only because it appears you decided to humble us with extravagance, my god Dave, when I asked for good rum I didn't mean spend a fortune," she said as Kanaya slipped by and flashed her the bottle, her voice going from sarcastic to genuinely impressed. When you walked up to her, she stared up at you in scrutiny and you leaned against the counter, listening to the soft voices of the significant others as they chatted about drinks and gingerbread.

"Special occasion."

"You're worried."

You shrugged.

"Well, can't say I blame you," she said quietly and placed the tin on the counter.

"How'd they take _your_ 'forgive me father, for I am not a heterosexual?'"

"Just fine. Though, I admittedly had it easy. I've been insinuating for months. If they were at all shocked then I would have resorted to emergency protocol, which would be clouting them across the face with The Complete Idiot's Guide to Reading Comprehension."

"Shit, I only brought Chicken Soup for the Queer Soul."

"Might want to leave that one in the glovebox," she countered with a knowing smile, but that faded away after a moment. "If it helps, Jade already suspects the circumstances."

"I figured. Chica's quick."

"Blisteringly so," she chuckled and tapped your arm with the back of her hand. "We'll fight for you, if push comes to shove."

"S'okay, my right hook's feelin' pretty mean tonight," you said and shook out your hand. "But I'll tap out if I get woozy."

"You'd better."

Muffled voices drifted in from outside the apartment and Rose looked at you pointedly, a tiny smirk coloring her face.

"Brace for impact."

"Kchkhhhh, roger that Houston, we are approaching the shitstorm," you spoke stiffly through your cupped hands, getting a gentle snort from your sister, and the doorknob turned. "T-minus 3, 2, 1-"

 _"DAVE!"_

You stepped smoothly away from the counter and suddenly had an armful of girl. You could try to pass off the momentum-fueled twirl as completely ironic, but that would have been a flat out lie. Better just blame it on the momentum.

Jade smelled like campfires and pumpkin, all muscles and curves and laughter and you felt your insides clench with nostalgia as she squeezed her arms around your neck. It had been more than half a year since you saw her and it felt like ten years, but as soon as you thought that, you changed your mind because actually it felt more like a single day. She barreled back into your life like it was no big deal and you thought, _fuck it, if she's behind us, then we're a runaway train. Ain't nothing in the world that can stop us, no sir._

"Hey lady."

"Hey guy."

"You got tan."

"And _you_ haven't changed a bit!" she said and giggled, squeezing her arms even tighter. "I _missed you."_

"You too, kid."

"This is all very heartwarming, hooray, cavities to go around, but what the fuck Lalonde, could you have sent us on more of a wild goose chase? Cause there's only a few stores left in this entire fucking city that we didn't get to," a grumbling voice interrupted from the doorway and Sollux emerged from the kitchen with a grin on his face.

"Hey fucknutth, didja bomb all your finalth?"

"Fuck no, I massacred them, you ass. It was a bloodbath," Karkat barked back, but not angrily and when Sollux made his way over, he pounded a fist into his shoulder with a crooked grin.

Rose shot back playfully, "I am very particular about my chocolate, especially around the holidays ah, thank you John, this is perfect."

"No problem! But, he's kind of right, we went to like every grocery store and like a _hundred_ candy shoppes and I don't ever want to hear bells ever again, uuugh," he groaned, but turned to you with a toothy smile. "Hey, man."

"Sup."

"Body count?"

"Shorty's not the only one who got a little bloodthirsty."

"Haha, awesome, me too."

"Kanaya, do you need any help? Now that we're all here, we should start!"

"I would like that very much, Jade, thank you."

"Okay, hehe. Oh wait! Before we split," Jade started and turned to the small, chattering crowd with a blinding grin framed by round glasses, wild hair, and eyes that could win the hearts of stone statues. The group all turned to face her and she clapped her hands together before letting out a bright, cheery, and oh-so-wonderfully-Jade-ian, "Merry Christmas!"

And with that, the night was set.

_____________

  


The rumor was indeed a fact; Kanaya's eggnog was killer.

"-and I got talked to a lot by merchants, which is kind of scary at first, but it's easy to dodge them when you get the hang of it!" Jade narrated cheerfully, her excited eyes flitting around at the rest of the group that listened with tipsy attention. The living room was decked out with the typical decorations (your mother had sent Rose several packages of ornaments, garland, and candy canes which Rose nearly threw in a compactor, but then figured that the prolific Dr. Lalonde wouldn't see her place anyway, so she might as well put them to good use), and you all sat on the cushy couches, knocking back glass after glass and devouring gingerbread and other festive dishes.

"Aaah, that sounds sooo coool," John groaned and collapsed back against the cushion next to Jade, and Karkat on her other side nodded, leaning back against the arm of the couch, nibbling on peppermint bark.

"Are you going to return?" Kanaya asked, and Jade leaned her elbows against her knees, dropping down to rest her chin in her palms.

"Yeah," she replied somewhat sadly, but also wistfully. "Well, maybe not to Egypt. I wanna go somewhere I haven't been before. Somewhere new!"

"How thrilling," Rose said softly, and it wasn't the least bit sardonic. "You're a regular conqueror."

"Well, Bec sure loves to travel!" she laughed and flopped back into into the couch, grinning at her companions. "What have you guys been doing?"

"Fuck all."

"Oh, whatever Karkat, you blew through like, the _entire_ IMDB page for Adrien Brody."

"That would be because he is a flawless actor, _John,_ and who's the idiot who watched _Gone in 60 Seconds_ every day for two weeks?"

"Best movie ever, shut your face you philistine."

"How cute, you used a word I taught you, except that its definition is a flashing Vegas neon arrow that points right to _John Egbert, Classless Swine Extraordinaire."_

"No way, man, you just couldn't appreciate a good car chase if you were _leading_ it."

"I would if it led to me running _you_ over."

"Oh my god," Sollux breathed before doubling over with quiet laughter and you had half a mind to join him. You patted him on the back and Jade turned to Rose with a huge grin.

"And you?"

"After several weeks of discussion and many, many hours of tense analytical debate with a least four pages worth of pros and cons," Rose started with a theatrical air, which trickled off as she glanced at her girlfriend sitting cross-legged in the armchair next to the large sofa. The quiet girl smiled softly. "Kanaya has finally agreed to move in with me."

"Yes!" Jade cheered and leaped up to retrieve the pitcher of eggnog, filling everyone's glasses in celebration. "Cheers, cheers to _that._ I'm so happy for you two!"

"Yes, it will be quite a relief, I think."

"What about you, Dave?" John piped up with a grin. "You guys have been so radio silent, let us in on all the secret missions you've been assigned."

"Seriously," Karkat added and waved a hand at Sollux. "You've bothered me like... I don't know, four times, which is less than a thousand than usual."

"Uh..." Sollux replied and turned to you with that look, that message that said _hold on, think I'm having second thoughts._ They were tipsy, but it hadn't been nearly long enough to get them drunk. Except you couldn't really back out now, because you were both silent for too long, and it was too late to make anything up, and they would probably be able to tell, and _son of a bitch this is it._ You let out a breath and ran your fingers through your hair, shooting a glance at Rose who was watching you cautiously. Kanaya clutched her glass and looked from you, to Sollux, then back to you again. She gave you a brief nod and a little smile and you leaned forward on your knees.

"Put your drinks down for a sec."

"O... kay?" John said slowly, and Karkat did the same. They looked at each other with baffled expressions briefly and then turned back to you. You took in a slow breath and felt Sollux bump his wrist against your leg.

"I could spin some twisted syntax full of rhythm and reference and fire so that you'd have to run it over in your minds like the Raiders of the Lost Ark boulder bearing down on your brains to even get a _glimpse_ of what I'm aimin' at," you started verbosely, but then stopped fast and held out your hands placidly. "But I won't. I'm gonna lay it on you straight. All right? This is me at my most raw."

"Strider, what the hell?" Karkat said and looked at Sollux, who gaze was fixed on the table.

"Shut up, I'm in the zone. Don't shatter the ice, bro," you quipped and he rolled his eyes before gesturing at you to _get a move on, asshole, we're waiting. I know, shorty, gimme a fucking minute. Jesus._ "Right, so... Skinny and me? We're goin' steady."

Sollux let out a harsh breath, which sounded half-way in between a laugh and a choke, and the silence was palpable.

"Wait... like," John started and screwed up his face. "Like _dating?"_

"Like dating."

"You're dating each other," Karkat voiced tonelessly.

"We're dating each other," Sollux contributed rigidly. And the ice? Yeah, it shattered.

"Wait, whoa, _whammmph!?"_ both Karkat and John spluttered and were simultaneously cut off by Jade's hands as her strong arms wrapped around their necks like they were a pair of stupefied watermelons. She winced with wide eyes and man-handled them off the couch, dragging them as fast as she possibly could to the hallway.

"Sorry, sorry, excuuuuse us pleeeease!" she called out and the flailing triplicate vanished just like that, mumbling and kicking the whole way back.

"Well," Rose exhaled when peace fell back into the room and turned to you with a grin. "That went about as well as I expected."

"And what the fuck does that mean?" you groaned and collapsed back into the couch, feeling exhausted and drunk and kind of craving a nice, dark hole to crawl into. Sollux chuckled and knocked his knee against yours.

"We're fucked," he said laughingly and you snorted.

"Royally."

"I would give them another chance," Kanaya contributed calmingly and you reached forward to finish off your drink.

"Just one, but I get to knock some sense into 'em if they come back without any."

"In this case, I think that is perfectly acceptable," Rose agreed and nodded at Sollux. He shrugged in agreement.

"Thave the latht punch for me."

"Naturally," you said and looked at him meaningfully for a second. His eyes managed to find yours through your shades, and hung there evenly until the dynamic duo burst back out of the hallway with Jade following up behind, looking rather amused. Whatever you and Sollux were expecting, you definitely weren't prepared.

"Guys, what the _fuck-"_

"You actually thought that we would be grossed out-"

"-sad sacks of bullshit, way to fucking _assume-"_

"-your _best friends,_ why would we care-"

"-gives a shit, it's not the _fucking fifties-"_

 _"-kidding_ me bro, we're not assholes-"

"-taste could use some fucking work though-"

"-have told us sooner, _jeez."_

"-going to murder both of you, thanks a whole fucking lot. _Just. Die."_

The room was silent for a long moment and then Sollux was a flash of motion, storming across the room, before he threw himself at Karkat in a hug that surprised everybody. It was brief and when he pulled away, Karkat looked like he was going to shit a brick, and Sollux just laughed. He laughed and your brain screamed and John looked at you and you grinned like a shark.

"Wow, thorry, that wath really lame," Sollux said in between breaths and stepped away from Karkat with hands held up in surrender. "Forget I did that. Pleathe."

Karkat blinked and then slowly relaxed, falling back into his regular grumpiness, with just a touch of understanding, "Whatever, you pile of waste, just do me a favor and stop being so fucking dense all the time. Jesus shitting christ."

"Ehehe, sure thing, KK."

"You too, Dave, you are such a horse's ass."

"Good one, Egbert," you countered but your shoulders were shaking with laughter. "Good one."

"God," Jade huffed and looked over at Rose and Kanaya, who were having a very difficult time quashing their hysterics at the pervasive stupidity. Kanaya placed a delicate hand against her mouth, Rose did a very impressive double-facepalm combo, and Jade rolled her eyes exasperatedly before saying what basically everyone was thinking.

 _"Boys."_

_____________

  


"Come outthide with me for a minute."

"It's cold as balls, Skinny."

"Shut up and jutht come."

You followed Sollux out the door into the cold night air, leaving behind two girls fiddling with things in the kitchen and the three amigos collapsed against each other on the sofa, knocked out by full stomachs and blissful intoxication. Sollux had put on just his coat and shoes and so you didn't protest too much; it looked like it would be brief, but important. He hated being cold, so he was doing this for a reason.

The decorative lights blinked cheerfully at you as you leaned against the railing, blowing out a hazy cloud of breath into the air. Your shades made everything dim and subdued, but you could still see Sollux well enough in the glow to know not to say a word.

"Here," he said curtly and handed you a small, plainly wrapped box. You took it and tore off the wrapping silently, stuffing the paper in your pocket. Sollux shifted nervously and you paused with your fingers underneath the cardboard flap. He looked up at you with eyes full of mixed signals and you suddenly forgot how to make fun of him. "Jutht open it, athhole, you're killing me."

"Haha, sorry babe," you muttered and pulled out the tissue wrapped object, uncovering it layer by layer until you found yourself staring at a porcelain white coffee mug with elegant script on one side and a decorative picture of two people on the other. You had to squint to read the writing, but when it became clear, you nearly cracked. "Holy fuck."

"Ith that in a good way, or...?" Sollux prodded nervously and shifted his weight.

"Skinny," you started seriously and gestured at him with the mug tightly clenched in your cold fingers. "This is the tackiest, gaudiest, kitschiest piece of shit I have ever seen."

His face lit up with a brilliant and goofy smile and he mimed wiping his brow. "Phew. You're impothible to shop for, you know. Tho... you like it?"

["It's incredible. How the fuck did you find this."](http://www.amazon.com/Prince-William-Middleton-China-Wedding/dp/B004JJ75EW/ref=sr_1_41?s=kitchen&ie=UTF8&qid=1317001486&sr=1-41)

"I had help," he admitted with a shrug.

"Rose, that conniving little witch. I can't believe her. She told you about that night."

"Taking a shot every time you thaw a thtupid hat? Are you two _inthane?"_

"It worked, didn't it?" you said and pressed your mouth against Sollux's forehead, laughing quietly to yourself.

"Happy late birthday too, you idiot. Thankth for not telling me," he grumbled into your chest.

"My bad, b-days aren't really my cup of coffee."

"Mmm."

You remained pressed against each other for a few moments, conserving warmth in the biting air, just listening to each other breathe. You felt languid and calm, coursing with a current that told you to wrap your arms around the skinny nerd in front of you and never let go. _This is dangerous. This is fatal. This is amazing._

"Sollux Captor, you are tearing me apart."

He stepped back and grinned at you, hands thrust in his pockets for warmth. "You're welcome."

The door creaked and a gentle knock stole your stare for a moment. Rose stood in the doorway with a knowing smile.

"There's hot chocolate for when you decide you've had enough of being popsicles," she said shortly and then disappeared again, not saying a word about the cup in your hand though her eyes betrayed her amusement. You rolled your eyes right back to Sollux and sighed.

"She'th nithe," he said tauntingly. You didn't rise to the challenge.

"Yeah, she's all right," you said and slipped your fingers into his hair. He tilted his head into it.

"You're nithe," he murmured with a sly grin. You touched your nose to his.

"Grrr."

"Ehehe, thorry," he whispered and closed the gap and you felt blissfully tired.

You felt rapturously defeated.

You felt...

you felt something.


	13. Build It Up

**CHAPTER 12**  


 _Build It Up_

  
____________________________________________________

  


You felt something and that something threatened to ruin you.

It was all you could think about. Sollux Captor was the _only thing you could think about._ That birth mark behind his ear, they way he clipped his nails too close and complained for at least a day following, that one Comic-Con shirt that he wore all the time around the house with the hole in the armpit, the fact that he switched writing hands sometimes without so much as a blink, that telling nose-pinch that he did when a headache was coming on... his messy hair that curled a little bit when it got too long. His back when he hunched over a pile of computer parts. The sound of him cracking the joints in his toes.

His soft laugh when he was waiting for toast and you put your chin on his head.

The muscles in his neck when he fell asleep on the sofa in the middle of studying.

The little dot scars from mosquito bites on his arms and legs and god fucking _damnit._

This was it. This was that thing that you were told about but had never felt. This was that thing that you and Rose constantly rolled your eyes at, and that she had beaten you to. This was that thing that you thought you felt for Jade, thought you felt for...

and it was...

"I hate the wind tho much, holy _fuck_ it'th cold outthide."

it was so...

"Want thome waffleth? There'th only a few left."

so insanely

"Shower'th clogged. Again."

un

"Ouch, _fuck,_ bandaid pleathe. _Ow ow ow ow."_

it was unreal

"Oh shit, I forgot to write you a check latht week... One thec."

this was so fucking unreal

"Ahaha, fuck you man."

so

"Nngh, g'morning..."

so

"'Night."

oh fuck

"Dave..."

oh _fuck_

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] at 21:08 --  


TG: im screwed  
TT: Tell him.

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] at 21:12 --

How.

How were you supposed to tell someone that they were murdering you. How were you supposed to tell someone that they had completely scrambled your day-to-day. How were you supposed to tell someone that every time you looked into their eyes, you forgot things, forgot the lines of dialogue that you had queued up, forgot what you had expected to feel.

How were you supposed to tell someone that you were scared of them.

Scared of how important they had become.

Scared of how they were changing you.

Scared of how he understood you. He knew you.

He made you wonder if you truly knew yourself.

He was a fucking meteor that had torn through the sky and blown a crater into your chest and you had _let it happen._ You remembered wanting him, months ago, when he was still just a good-looking guy who knew your best friend by pure coincidence. You thought hey, nice guy with a checkbook, easy on the eyes, mutual interests... this wouldn't be so bad. Maybe you could chase him around, see where things go. If it didn't work, then it didn't work. You would back off and be just a roommate again. No big deal. That's life.

But you didn't prepare yourself for _this._

When he came home from class on a viciously cold tuesday, sighing deeply as the heated air soothed his face and ears, you felt cornered. He was no longer a roommate, not even just a boyfriend anymore, he was a _monster in your space,_ a creature that _demolished everything that he touched,_ and... he touched so deeply. Without even noticing. Even when he was just _standing_ there on the carpet, just tapping out a text on his phone, he was _tearing the world apart around him,_ which included you.

You were screwed.

"'Thup."

And you never wanted to turn back.

You went through the motions; greeted him in return (calm), pulled your focus back to your homework (distracted), made mac-n-cheese for dinner (enough for two), got confused when he turned up the thermostat with chattering teeth _(is it just me?),_ turned on the lava lamps when it got dark out (that was fast, damn), ran your hands through your hair when you heard the quiet hiss from his shower (shit shit shit shit), decided to take a shower of your own (not too cold though, it's still fucking winter), and walked back into the living room to find him curled up on the couch reading a book (oh).

Stop.

Relax.

Finger off the trigger.

You ain't Dirty Harry yet.

Breathe.

Breathe again.

Sit down, sit right down.

You're feelin' lucky, punk.

line the front sight up with the notch, don't botch this  
this is not a fucking joke, you'll croak if you choke and miss  
this perfect chance, here's your window, clear as crystal  
and you have to do this  
you've got to tell him, sissy says go  
and when she says fall, you say how low  
other folks throw roses at your feet and emit  
that you're a legend but he makes you feel  
like a legendary piece of shit  
cause he's perfect  
he's worth it

L'Oreal spins lies, that ain't shampoo in your eyes  
it's his honey, fucking sticky, stuck forever and whatever  
you try to do to get it clean, get back routine, it's all for nothing  
cause he keeps bees, and you're just a fucking worker  
so do it

do it

right fucking now

say it

Say it!

 _Fucking say it!_

 _SHOOT!_

"I love you," you revealed calmly and his eyes snapped over to yours. You met his sight evenly and it was like staring into a loaded gun. You knew there was a bullet about to plow straight through your skull, but you didn't know what it would say when it hit.

"Bullshit," was the breathy message.

"Not bullshit. You're the hottest thing I've ever seen and I'm head ove-"

Hands cut off your confession and you had to breathe through your nose, the owner of the muzzle staring wide-eyed straight at you. He panted slightly and shook his head, one two three four times, more, until he swallowed his silence.

"H-holy shit, shut the fuck up Thtrider. Every time you open your fucking mouth, I jutht want to _punch_ yo-"

And your hands slapped against his mouth and you were both rendered wordless. Not silent; thin breaths hissed through your nostrils and you swore you could hear a messy cacophany of heartbeats. Though that was a lie and you knew it — more sappy romantic drivel to sprinkle into the already saturated air — but it felt right to say. The mind does strange things when overwhelmed, and audible palpitations were the least of your worries. But, yes. Wordless.

You leaned to replace your hands with your lips and you were both rendered wordless by choice.


	14. Break It Down

**CHAPTER 13**  


 _Break It Down_

  
____________________________________________________

  


This was new.

You had kissed so many times before, making out like high schoolers in an empty parking lot at midnight, turning your heads to the side just so, but _this..._ This was not like that. This was strange and unexpected. This was slow, hesitant, more time spent with your lips millimeters apart than actually connected. This was trying to reach an understanding because you had just dropped a pipe bomb into a puddle that had previously only been hit with raindrops. The water was everywhere, full of dirt and oil. It had splashed onto your shoes and your clothes and you were trying to kiss it away gently, but lips only did so much. Sometimes hands did a little bit more, so you reached up to brush his jawbone with your knuckles and he closed his eyes. You felt a hand on your chest. _What did it say? Thank you? Me too? Stop...?_

No, not stop, because he leaned forward again to close the gap. Not stop, because he was licking the back of your teeth and nibbling at your lip. Not stop, because his hands were gripping your shirt and tugging a little bit, not urgently, but noticeably. Maybe that hand had meant something different altogether, something more along the lines of... _Show me. Explain yourself. Prove it._

 _Oh, I will,_ you thought calmly and pulled him on top of you to straddle your thighs and he didn't look surprised, but he definitely looked curious. Interested. As your hand slipped against his back underneath his shirt, he started to look more than curious. Started to lean forward to claim your mouth again, nose brushing yours, his hands now pushing against your shoulders. Keep going? _Keep going._

His spine felt like a bed of stones, smooth yet prominent, repetitive and regular. It curved like an archer's bow underneath your fingers, and you could feel the tension underneath. It was not to be underestimated. You wouldn't dream of it. He had you in the palm of his hand, and you were loving every second of it. _More._ Your hands moved to his hips and he stopped biting at your tongue, eyes still closed, hands still tense. Breathing slow. This was a test. Were you brave enough to take the next step? Did he trust you enough with this kind of intimacy?

 _SHUT. UP,_ you shouted at yourself, _STOP THINKING. Jesus fucking christ. Just GO._

And you skimmed your palms up to his stomach, up to his ribs, up to his nipples and he did the same fucking thing. His lips were back, definitely urgent this time, and you both made up a dozen new definitions for the word "French." The hands on your lungs were warm and firm, questioning, exploring. It was a game, back and forth, _anything you can do I can do better,_ until your shirts were starting to get incredibly aggravating, _how dare they get in the way of this. Didn't they understand that this was a very important experiment, a great discovery for science, and you had a shitload of notes to take? Rude._ Sollux seemed to agree and he bunched your shirt up underneath your armpits and dove forward with a mission to mark his territory. You were about to inform him that _dude, the neck's the best spot for a hickey, nobody gazes upon the chiseled chest of Dave Strider without a first class ticket,_ but that thought vanished the second his teeth grazed your areola. Well, fuck. All those baby steps and he goes straight for the prize.

Since you couldn't quite return the favor, you settled for digging your hands beneath his waistband, wanting nothing more than to rip that belt off for easier range of motion. He didn't really seem to care about that though, and he squirmed in your lap as you worked your way underneath. His skin was so warm and in the atmosphere of winter it felt so good. You wanted it to be closer. All these layers, they were _in the fucking way._

"You've got a bony ass," you murmured in his hair and he bit a fold of skin above your lung in response, leaving little red marks behind. You chuckled lowly and pulled him flush against your pelvis, squeezing your fingers. He sunk his teeth into your neck.

"Hey, easy," you cooed with a grin and retrieved one of your hands to pull him away. "Get back here."

He looked furious and wanting and everything you ever needed, all the tiers of Maslow's hierarchy _right here in your lap_ with smudgy glasses, looking for all the world like he wanted to tear off your shades and hurl them at the wall. You brushed his bottom lip with your thumb and he attacked. As his teeth gnashed at yours, his hands couldn't decide where to go _(your neck? your hair? chest? stomach?)_ and you crushed his hips to yours, hands kneading at the tough muscle and bone beneath his jeans. In a manner of seconds, the loose exploration had slipped into something much more frantic. This whole deal suddenly took a swan dive off the board straight into _go go go._

"To the batcave, Robin!" you shouted in Sollux's face and, before he had time to register his shock, you pushed up off the couch and held him up in the air, your arms locked underneath his thighs. You got maybe three steps and he burst into laughter and shoved at your chest, squirming to get out of your hold. How you both managed to not end up in a painful, twisted pile on the floor, you will never know, but somehow it worked and you were body-checking each other down the entire length of the hallway, somehow working in a few clumsy and terrible kisses in the mix.

"Who the fuck made you Batman?" he growled and slammed you into the wall which you turned into a graceful spin, ending with you wedging your leg in between his, forcing him up onto his toes, the doorframe digging into his back. Your grin was positively shit-eating and he struggled to drive you back. To an outsider, this would have looked like a fist fight that desperately needed a mediator. What they couldn't have seen was the hard bulges underneath both of your jeans, needing not mediation, but facilitation. The clothes needed to come off.

Sollux managed to wiggle into a position that allowed him to kick you back and you got a good look at all of him for the first time in minutes. His face was flushed, his clothes were twisted, and he looked ready to tackle you to the ground. It was safe to say that you probably looked similar, though thankfully still in possession of your esteemed optical devices. Which made you feel quite smug. He could tell, and he fisted a hand in your shirt, pulling you into your shadowed room. The door slammed shut behind you (needlessly, but for some reason it seemed right) and you tripped on each others feet, devouring and biting at each other's faces. There was no light illuminating the space except for the cold blue neon of your computer tower and suddenly neither of you were playing anymore. This wasn't a joke. This was the real deal. _You had closed the door._

You pushed and pulled at each other with wild abandon, stumbling back through your dark room and hold on, wait, this could actually go all the way because it was pretty fucking clear that you were both ready and willing, but... but the sound, the sound of his breath leaving his throat. He was finally pulling off your sunglasses. He was looking at you furiously, like he was seconds away from tearing you to pieces. That little urge to _wait, slow down a fucking second, take this shit step by step_ was mercilessly stomped on by fervent kisses on your eyelids, teeth grazing your cheekbones. Nope, not today, that act took time, patience, and preparation; things that neither of you had in any capacity at the present moment.

"What color are they, you inthufferable prick?" Sollux snarled and grabbed the back of your neck as he devoured your temple. "I can't thee with jutht that thtupid fucking neon. What color are they?"

You laughed roguishly in his face, your hands tied in his belt loops, pulling pulling pulling. It was hard to tell if he was satisfied with the non-answer, or if it made him want to tear out your eyes to find out himself. You decided that either outcome was fine if it brought out that primal growl from his chest. "Fuck you, you shitty piethe of..."

"Yes please," you said gruffly and then another hearty, short laugh burst out of your chest; you couldn't help it, this was so fucking _right,_ and Sollux shoved you back to grab at the hem of your shirt. It was a fearsome tennis match of Who Could Get the Opponent's Clothes Off the Fastest, _ladies and gentlemen it appears we have a tie_ and you threw the sinewy figure on to your haphazard sheets, only to dive into the clutches of bony hands that clamped your shoulders. It was a flurry of chaotic movement, scraping ribs and thighs, breathing sharply in between connecting teeth, pushing and pulling and thrashing on top of the soft fabric until you found yourself on your back, looking up into fire.

He pushed his hips down into yours and your arm flew over your face as curses fell from your mouth like a chant, because _holy shit. This just got real._

Again again again. He thrust down, making noises as if he were trying to move a brick wall, and you met him halfway this time. The first drops of sweat collected and you were both hard as stone, skin hot and soft and welcoming. As you pulled your arm away, you were met with the most enticing sight; Sollux's hair was in complete disarray, glasses nowhere to be found, and those piercing orbs were fixed below your abdomens, as if he wanted to make sure he didn't miss anything. Every time he moved, they narrowed and then expanded again, eyebrows knitted tight, mouth open. For the first time, the fact that he wasn't looking directly into your retinas, like a tracking laser, was so astonishingly sexy. The connection had been shifted. Not eyes anymore, but bodies. Skin. His knowing gaze was observing the shift, and it was as if he controlled it. Despite being a willing participant, moving up every time he thrust down, you felt like a passive observer to his influence. It was incredible. You held him back by a hand on his torso, the other digging marks in a hip. He tried to lean forward, to move his _entire self_ forward, fingers scrabbling at your sternum, but you wouldn't let him. Not yet. You wanted to look first.

There were bones. Elbows, knees, and that collarbone that caught your stare every time it was exposed to light. And muscles too. Your hand ran from the driving hip down to a thigh and then a biker's calf, tough and tight. You could feel the solidity beneath the bare surface of his chest that only gave in when Sollux allowed it, only softened and caved when he let it breathe. He definitely needed some more fat in his diet, but you couldn't even dream of saying he was out of shape. Just wiry. Like a tense knot.

He grunted in surprise as you shot up and tipped him back on the bed, not expecting the sudden change. He struggled to get back into power, but you thrust forward in between his legs and he froze, momentarily, the heat trapped between you. You dug your hands underneath his back and he arched a little, pushing on your chest again. The fight for dominance paused for a moment as you both reeled from the heat electrifying your skin, originating from two very hard dicks pressing together beneath your weight. It had been great before, but you were heavier and... it seemed to change things a little.

Sollux's hands moved to claw at your back, deciding all of a sudden to pull instead of push and your arms tightened in kind. You both started to move with each other instead of against each other. It was a little quieter, less vicious, but still not slow. Nothing felt slow. Your heart was working overtime in your bony cage and you could feel his do the same, out of sync, like two percussion tracks played next to each other with different tempos. Blood rushed in your ears, and then caught clipped groans and staggered breaths.

"Move, move..." came a breathless, urgent voice and you propped yourself up onto your elbows to see the exact expression that came with that plea. The sort of angry, impatient, and yet ecstatic look made your stomach flip, made you want to say _yes yes yes I'll do anything for you just tell me what you want._ As you slowed with contemplation, Sollux huffed angrily and bucked upward, sending lights flashing across your vision. By the looks of it, he saw some too.

"Hoooly shit Sol, you've got a helluva poker face," you babbled and nuzzled his chest, leaning down to bite and tease at a nipple. The hiss you got in response nearly made you lose your fucking mind. "Who else knows you're this crazy?"

"No one," which was a lie and you both knew it — he had spilled about his other failed relationships — except it wasn't. This was _different._ "Who elthe hath theen your eyeth?"

"No one," and that was a lie too, and you both fucking knew it, except _it wasn't. This was fucking different._

"Get the fuck back," he breathed and you pushed off of him, sliding back with a fixed gaze as he crawled forward, one beast poised to destroy another. You threw a pillow at the headboard and settled your back against it, guiding the slender body back onto yours, and the heat was back like a breath of fire against your skin.

Sollux wasted no time in getting exactly what he wanted as he wrapped those long fingers around both of your cocks, getting a husky, _"Aaargh, god yes"_ from your clenching teeth in response. You gripped his sides, pulling him closer to you as you mindlessly pushed back against the headboard, eyelids half-shut but terrible at containing the molten look you had fixed on him. This time he stared right back, unblinking, and you decided that your earlier self must have been stark raving mad to ever think that him not looking directly at you would ever come close to the contrary. Yep, past you was batshit insane, because you never wanted those split-colored irises to ever look at anything else.

"You are so fuckin' hot," you started to ramble, and smacked his arm away so that you could return the favor. He growled and fought until you both ended up with your cocks in one another's hands, pumping completely out of unison, a broken machine that kept running because it _had to._ It was the _only way it would work._ "You're evil, hiding this body from me in those stupid t-shirts. You fuckin' sneak. Give me your secrets."

"God, Dave..." and it sounded nothing like him. That collected, nonchalant timbre had been strained and twisted into something gravelly and mewling. _"Unngh..."_

"You little bastard, hiding behind those glasses," and you were bordering on incoherence, talking more to yourself than anything, but he was so close to you that he could still hear every word. "I'm gonna fuckin' smash those pieces of shit, _AARGH god fuck me fuck yes."_

He shut you up with his mouth, an increasingly popular tactic between you two, his hand shooting up to yank at your hair. _Yes yes yes,_ and the hand you had clawing his hip mirrored his move and you grazed little red marks at the back of his neck. The battle was fierce, mimicked by angry strokes, but it was a stalemate from the very beginning. When you decided you had enough of his tongue (which was dangerously bordering on _never),_ you pulled him away to stare once again. Sweat glistened on his forehead, on his nose, on his jawline and you felt cold drops of your own slide down your throat. How were you not blind. He was stealing your vision and, when he was done, you would have nothing left. Blue and amber, fucking _sapphire and topaz for christ's sake this was a goddamn dollar store romance novel, fucking call me Fabio Strider and let the salty waves crash over me,_ and without the distraction of his lips you were a veritable deluge of stupid words.

"God, babe, your fuckin' eyes, they're incredible, like little marbles. Colored glass," you gushed and touched the skin around his sockets (his temple, his cheeks, his forehead, his damp hair), while the other hand pumped his cock in rhythm this time with the one on yours. He panted, and squirmed, and groaned, and stared at you, _really fucking looked,_ unabashedly scorching every surface those black pupils touched. Your face and your chest and your hands were on fire and everything he did wasn't water, it was _more fucking fuel._ "All those people that asked what was wrong with them... nothing's _wrong,_ you fuckin' imbeciles, can't you see they're _perfect?_ Like polished stones. Like wet sand next to the sky oh _ffffuck..."_

"Oh shit..." Sollux choked and smacked his forehead into yours, ribs heaving, _you could almost count them,_ breaths hot against your lips. "Oh shit, I love you too... I love you too, Dave, d-don't thtop... oh god... I'm..."

Your fingernails dug creases into the back of his neck, your scalp pulled tight with the blond hair clenched tightly in his fist, and the other two hands moved faster, _faster, oh god don't stop, don't slow down even for a second, you were both so close and this was really fucking important and we're both right there on the canyon's edge and we are staring into the abyss and it is STARING RIGHT BACK INTO US AND IT IS BEAUTIFUL WE ARE BEAUTIFUL LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL._

Shudders racked your bodies and his forehead slipped against yours and a shoulder collided with your collarbone and the world was _so fucking loud._ There was no structure to the sounds that erupted from both of your throats, and yet they made sense. It just made sense, the way his voice stumbled and tripped over his spasms, the way you were forced to inhale through your nose as your teeth clenched together, the way your cum became indistinguishable from his on both of your stomachs. The way you both choked as if a monster's claw had been squeezing your lungs and then just decided to let go. The way he was so close to ripping out your hair and you were pretty sure your fingernails were going to leave bruises on his neck. _It all made absolute, flawless, unequivocal sense._

It made sense.

The way the world slowed down made sense.

The way his hand slid down to your sternum made sense.

The way he kissed you like he was water and you were a tree's dying roots made sense.

 _It all made sense._

 _I suddenly understand everything._


	15. Epilogue: And Wrap It Up

**EPILOGUE**  


 _And Wrap It Up_

  
____________________________________________________

  


Your eyes opened slowly to a sunlight softened room, air churning underneath the turbulent heater. Your skull felt thick and you turned over with a grumble to glare at the clock, only to stare at the little numbers in disbelief. It was 10:57 am. You had missed all of your morning classes. You never slept this late, ever. As you rolled back over to bury your face in the pillow, you were abruptly met with a softly breathing human form and suddenly you didn't care about classes. Classes were bullshit. Classes could just go and shove it, for all you cared. This was so much better.

The sleeping embodiment of Sollux Captor was stunning. So awkward and gangly, so strange without fabric draping over his shoulders, without those square frames resting on his nose. All of the lines between his eyebrows were softened and the breaths that passed through his parted lips, his teeth, were hushed, slow, and rhythmic. The harsh angles and tight muscles of his limbs seemed loose when laid carelessly on crumpled sheets, and you tried not to move too much. It would be a sin to disturb this quiet scene and fuck, damn it, too late.

Black eyelashes flickered open and blinked against the muted light that creeped around the curtains. A slow moment passed before they fluttered over to you, dimly registering the surroundings, until they noticed that they were not the only ones open and awake. Another few blinks preceded a deep breath and a catlike stretch. You could definitely count ribs this time.

While attempting to crawl out of sleepy stupor, you both sat up languidly and stared at each other's ridiculous appearances. Hair stuck up in every possible direction, dark circles faintly shadowed tired eyes, and flesh was as bare as the days you both were born. His eyes, as always, looked directly into yours (unshaded, naked) and you felt a great and terrible thing come over you. A lifetime of living with an enigmatic brother, years of preparing yourself for the onslaught of drama that was teenage life... You were Dave Strider. You were cold and calculating, you were sharp and unreadable. You were _Dave Motherfucking Strider_ and your carefully constructed apathetic facade was completely shattered by a skinny boy with a speech impediment. The great and terrible thing bubbled up into your chest and there was nothing you could do to stop it. You smiled like never before, like everything good that ever happened to you _combined_ was _nothing_ compared to this and, though you searched deep within your brilliant mind for something heartfelt, romantic, and intelligent to say, the only thing you could dredge up was one tiny word.

"Hey."

The grin that bloomed across his face was truly the most breathtaking thing you ever had the privilege of seeing.

You suddenly understood jack shit.

"Hi."

And it was _perfect._  


__________  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dang. Well. That was fun!
> 
> I want to take a moment and thank everybody for reading, leaving comments, drawing fanart, giving kudos, and sticking with me through this wild ride of a fic. I'm absolutely blown away at the response, especially considering this is like the crackiest pairing of all... and it's been one of the coolest things I've done in a while. I'm not lying when I say that this is the longest story I've attempted, and the first longfic that I've actually completed (whoa), and it's all because of you wonderful people being so fucking rad all the damn time and supporting me the whole way through.
> 
> I'm shaking right now, full of nervousness, excitement, and love for all you guys. I'm so glad I tried writing again.
> 
> Again, thank you all so much. I couldn't ask for more.
> 
> <3


End file.
